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Came A Stranger - Celine Conway
Came A Stranger - Celine Conway
Tess was resigned to the fact that she had to leave Canada and
go home to England; that she must give up all her plans for running a
guest house by the lovely lake at the foot of the Rockies. The house
was up for sale, and all she had to do was wait for a prospective
buyer. What she hadn't expected was that, when the buyer
materialized, he would not only want to take over the guest house but,
apparently, organize Tess's life for her as well!
CHAPTER ONE
IT was the first wet day for a month, a cool, grey day, just right
for the jobs Tess had had to leave till last. Just right, and yet a little
depressing. Rain outside, and indoors the big packing cases waiting to
be filled with blankets and china, pictures and books and all the
oddments the Harveys had collected during their four years at Lake
Kenegan. Still, it had to be done and there was no one else to do it.
where it was warmer, and greener and more British than the rest
of Canada.
Tess sat back on her heels, stared at the whitewashed
wall of the kitchen and silently reminisced. About her
first glimpse of the Rockies, the train jolting across spruce-
lined ravines, the endless green valleys full of fruit farms.
About the small town in which they had stayed while
seeking some sort of business in which to invest their
small capital. And about their first visit to Garth House,
expand."
The view had already been "ours," the house already visualized
as a sort of lakeside inn. Tess had become as enthusiastic as her
father; while he and a handy man did the repairs, she scrubbed and
polished and even tidied the small lawn in front of the house. Long
before they moved in she was intimately acquainted with every room
and its fireplace, the front stoep with its log posts and benches, the
ramshackle outhouse where they kept the old car— and with the view.
Pebble beach and crags, great masses of hemlock and spruce, firs
marching along the skyline; and
-:•—••
downthere,attheendofthegradualslopefromthe
house,thedeepbluelakefullofskyandtrees.
Tesssighedgustilyandbentoncemoreoverthebooks.
Therestoftheheapwerehersandhermother's;classics, afewbest-
sellingnovels,biographies,travlbooks.The
pictureswereMrs.Harvey's;delicatewater-colorsand
,'Persianprintswhichshehadcollectedwithloveandcare.
"They'dhavetobepackedbetweenwadsofnewspaper.
Shegotup,sawherbywatchthatitwasnoon,and
,decidedtomakesometea.Shehadbreakfastedatsix,
offcoldcerealandtoast,andwasbeginningtofeelthe
.needofprotein,buttherewasn'tmuchsolidfoodinthe
plac'e.SheoughtreallytogoovertotheNielands'for :lunch,but...
"Hi,there.Anybodyhome?"
Acaller,onadaylikethis,deservedattention.Tess
,shookdownherjeans,gaveahastypattothecollarof
:'herfadedpinkshirtandwalkedthrough(hebackhall
r:intotheentrancelounge.Amanstoodjustinsidetheopen
^door,atallmaninheavyslacksandatweedjacket.Rain-
idropsglistenedoverhisrichbrownhairandspatteredhis
|shoulders,butyoufeltthiswasamanwhodidn'tnotice
s\theelements.Hewasasleanandimpersonalasthecrags
;^outthere,andthereweretinycreasesatthecornersofhis
1^eyes,asifhewereusedtotheoutdoorsonavastscale.
'"CanIhelpyou?"sheasked.
;;,"Youmight,"hesaid,andsizedherup,fromthetop
I.ofherwhitishshorthairtothetipsofherblunt-toed
|.flats."AreyoutheHarveygirl?"
fr."Youmightcallmethat.TessHarvey."
S:"Isee."Hesoundednegligent."It'syourmotherIwant
Itosee,honey."
j;Theyallspokelikethatatthebeginning;asthoughTess
gwereaschoolgirlonholiday."Sheisn'there.Ifit's
||personalbusiness,youmightliketowritetoherin
Hfingland."
fe"It'snotpersonal.Ibelievethisplaceisupforsale?"
I"That'sright."
p.."I'dliketolookitoverandmakeyouanoffer.The
InameisSteveFenner."
j"Howdoyoudo."Tesspaused."Didyousayyouwant
|tomakeanoffer?"
•That's what I said. It's on the market, isn't it?" "Yes, but it's odd
to mention making an offer before
you've seen the rooms. Do you want to go through them
now?"
"Not particularly. How many bedrooms?"
"Nine."
"And plenty of space downstairs, it seems. Selling it
furnished?"
"Yes: It's only fair to tell you that we bought every-
Small, straight and slim, she stared at him with cool blue eyes.
"I haven't decided anything of the sort, Mr. Fenner. If I could keep
Garth House, I would. It isn't practicable, so I'm packing up. And now
about the details." She looked away from him and went on
automatically, "We don't want to make any false claims for the place.
My father patched up the electric wiring and it's apt to cause trouble
now and then. The generator is old-fashioned but in good condition,
and the water tanks have been repaired. There's no central heating, but
the main rooms have radiators, fed from the boiler in the cellar. The
plumbing is in good order, there are three bathrooms— one of them
entirely new and on the upper floor there
"I am."
"The deuce you are!" He rubbed his knuckles along his jaw.
"Any guests?"
The query jolted Tess. She hadn't talked to the other prospective
buyers as she was talking to this man. But then they had been
different; older men with families. This one, she was sure, hadn't even
a wife. He was quite untamed. .
"But she's in England and you're here. How did she come to
leave you like that?" As her head rose slightly he added, "Frankly, I'm
wondering why I can't hear a sound about the place. You can't be
alone here."
"I haven't been alone. We had a helper, but she left yesterday. I
myself am sleeping here for the last time to-night My mother has been
rather unwell since my father died a year ago, and she's gone home to
live with her sister. Garth House couldn't be left to deteriorate, so I
stayed
It was odd, but until that final remark Tess had con-sidered him
one of those slightly overbearing men who are so accustomed to male
companionship that they just don't try to get along with women. She
had met the tpye before, prickled a little at being treated as a juvenile
but had not cared. Unfortunately, this one had something about him
that made you care, whether you wanted to or not.
She was looking at him across the counter now. "We made
inquiries and were told it was out of the question."
•'That must have been some time ago."
"About eighteen months."
"Supposing they'd been able to tell you the road was coming;
that there would also be a township of sorts only a mile or two away,
to the north. What would you have done?"
"I ... I don't know. My mother and I haven't the
"But . . . you said just now that you'll make an offer for it."
"So I will—just as a speculation. But you're the people who've
made the place what it is, and you're the ones who ought to cash in.
You don't want a stranger to get the benefit of your work, do you?"
"Of course not. But how can we be sure that Garth House is
worth hanging on to?"
"You can take my word for it; believe it or not, my word is quite
a bit. On the other hand, if your mother needs the cash I'll make a deal
with her."',
She stood very straight behind the counter, found her-self
leaning back slightly as he rested his elbow on the polished surface
and looked at her.
She shook her head. "I can't do that. My mother needs the
money rather urgently. That's why we're asking only what we gave for
the place—to get rid of it quickly."
"Well, I said I'd make a bargain with you. I'll buy a halfshare at
the price you're asking for the whole. That means you get your cash
and retain a half-interest in the property."
For the first time Tess believed in the man. He was big and
carved from something as hard as the rocks above
She smiled. "No, I shouldn't say you were. I'll get th rooms
ready."
"You'll need help about the place."
"I'll find someone. Dick will see to it for me."
A pause. "Who is Dick?"
"Dick Nieland. He's the son of the man who's acting for my
mother. The Nielands are our closest friends."
"Is Dickie-boy the reason you stayed in Canada?" Tess turned to
the wall-board, took down three keys.
"But you're a bit young for it, and I guess you don't care enough
about how you look to go in for artifice."
"That's not a very clever thing to sayl"
He looked surprised. "Hey, now. Don't flash the blue
lamps at'me. All I meant was that a girl who wears no make-up
isn't likely to . . ."
"I don't care what you meant, Mr. Fenner! You've been here
about fifteen minutes, and that's not long enough to give you the right
to judge anyone."
12
then looked back at her. "By the way, is this Dick Nielanti well
lined?"
"Fairly."
"Nice guy?"
"Very."
"Then make use of him, honey. You don't need me to tell you
that you're quite a girl—without make-up. So
long." • ,
She went upstairs, slipped a key into each of three open doors
and entered each room to make up the bed and hang towels on the rail
beside the wash-basin. She came down and boiled an egg, made some
tea and ate without tasting.
Had she been unwise to agree to the man's coming here with his
colleagues this evening? She had given in to him so easily that now
she was rather disturbed. She ought to have put him off, at least until
after she had had a. talk with the Nielands, father and son. But
somehow, things seemed to have slipped out of her grasp and into the
large strong hands of Mr. Steve Fenner; Which, surely, was wrong.
He didn't even belong to these parts!
Yet if it was true about the road and the new township, he had
been very straight and fair. He could quite easily
have left her in ignorance, had the place signed/over to
13
him and sat back to wait for the profit on the deal. It was all very
puzzling and decidedly unsettling. She certainly should have another
opinion on the matter before that grey-eyed egotist came back this
evening.
Tess washed the few things she had used, changed into black
slacks and a turquoise shirt, brushed up her hair and applied a touch
of lipstick. She locked the front door, slipped on one of the two
waterproofs which hung in the stoep and ran across the yard to the
barn. The car, a roomy but ancient Buick which her father had taken
over with Garth House, started up at the third try, and she backed out
and drove along the semicircle of gravel lane and on to the rocky
road. The very road for which Steve Fenner had prophesied a tarmac
surface.
Tess thought about it, half regretfully. True, a good wide road
linking up other towns would bring prosperity, but with the
obliteration of this track part of Kenegan's charm would disappear.
The lake would lose its timeless, unsullied atmosphere, the woods
echo with, the voices of holiday-makers, and the evening breeze
would carry the smoke of a hundred campfires and the smell of petrol.
But that was progress; it was what her father had believed in and
wanted. As far as Tess was concerned, though, the prospect was one
to make her rather glad they were selling
up. The road ran alongside a gradient covered with Douglas firs,
dipped into a valley which was shrouded in soft rain and went straight
as an arrow through a stretch of prairie where cattle grazed; the
Nielands' cattle. The entrance to their ranch was posted by two rough
stone pillars between which a log sign was suspended: "Blue Valley."
Dick's great-grandfafher had bought the land and a herd of cattle; his
father had demolished the old house and built
14
news for you. I shan't be using your spare room after all—not
for a while, anyway. I've got some guests coming to Garth House."
"And what about that job Dick was going to get for you in
town?"
"I shan't need it yet; I'll have plenty to do." She hesi-tated. "I
wanted to see Mr. Nieland fairly soon. When will he be back?"
"Heaven knows," was the dour reply. "He said I was to look
atfer you when you arrived. Dick will be back first, I dare say.
Perhaps in a day or so. He's not going to like your taking on more
customers—especially as you've more
or less closed down." •*
"When he knows the circumstances he'll, probably agree that it's
the only thing to do. Do you think I could get in touch with Mr.
Nieland?"
"No," decisively. "The man had this letter from Calgary and was
worried; I can't have you worrying him more."
"But he happens to be acting for my mother, and I have to make
a decision."
know what you're up to, so that you can blame him if anything
goes wrong."
15
Doesn't it wring your heart even a little to know that I'm alone
here and a bit scared of all the responsibility?"
"Can't say it does," said the woman. "I'm sixty, and I haven't
lived that long without learning a good deal about
young women. They think twice as fast as any man, can twist
everything and everyone to their own ends, and then
plead helplessness when things go wrong. Give me men to deal
with, every time."
"It's still there, if you want it. I was never one to deny anyone a
roof and good food. But don't go twining your-'self any more tightly
about the old man's heart. You wouldn't suit Dick for a wife, and you
know it."
"She left yesterday for the coast. I don't know the people in town
very well and I wouldn't know who to ask. Got any ideas?"
"I know. If only I had an odd-job man to look after the boiler
and do the outside chores, I could manage. Doing the whole lot
myself is going t'o be a grind."
"Hard work never harmed a soul," stated Mrs. Lesley
philosophically. Then, belatedly, "Your hair is damp. Do you
want to come in?"
"I haven't time, thank you, Mrs. Lesley. I'll have to get back and
start some fires. The house is going to be sticky after this rain."
16
Tess thanked her aand ran down to the car. Normally, she would
have had a private grin at Mrs. Lesley. The Scotswoman was naturally
hard, but she did have a few soft spots; in fact one of them, in the
early days of the Harveys at Kenegan, had been Tess herself. As a
long-legged girl straight from school she had had far more appeal for
Mrs. Lesley than the strong slim young woman she had since become.
Mrs. Lesley measured everything and everyone by their effect on the
Nielands, and the twenty-year-old Tess had assumed a degree of
importance in the household, chiefly because Mr. Nieland had been
en-trusted, in part, with her guardianship.
Ten minutes later Tess was changing back into the old jeans.
She went down to the cellar, chopped kindling and started the boiler
fire, and then carried wood and logs up to the lounge. It was too
warm, really, for a fire, but surfaces were steamy and the fire did
bring a cheerfulness into the atmosphere. When flames were leaping
she went back to the big kitchen and made some pastry. She used a
can of pie apples, covered the dish with a crust and decorated it; made
some tartlets and patty cases. Then she built a third fire, in the stove,
and fed it with wood. No need to cook the pastry yet; it could stay in
the vast old paraffin fridge.
Five o'clock arrived, and no sign of the three expected men.
Five-thirty, six, six-thirty. Tess kicked at the log which lay across the
lounge fire and kept her eyes away from her watch. All for nothing;
she might have known they wouldn't come. The man and his promises
were too good to be true, and now she was left with the fireplaces to
clean and the pastry to dispose of. And she would have to face Mrs.
Lesley again, and beg for asylum in the spare room, after all.
17
Her father, at that time, was just living till she had finished
school and could accompany her parents to Canada. And
her mother . . . well, her mother had always been a wee bit
artistic and fanciful; she wasn't all that keen on child-
ren, let alone nursing them.
"I'm famished. There's steak, ham and eggs in the box. You and
I will have the steak right now. I'll carry this stuff through to the
kitchen. Is it this way?"
She followed him, bearing his coat, hung it on a door peg and
turned to the kitchen table. He was unpacking the supplies, bags and
packets of them. He'd even re-membered to bring some tall cartons of
milk.
19
"I'll start it while you make. the coffee and set the table." He
opened the table drawer and drew out a long kitchen knife. "Did you
get hold of some help?"
he returns?"
to be rushed."
"Well, who's rushing?" Steve said pleasantly, as he sliced the
steak. "So long as you can get someone here to help
run this place we'll be quite happy. How many servants did you
have?"
20
He dropped the slabs of steak into hot fat, wiped his fingers on a
cloth and leaned back against the wall beside the stove. The grey,
unwavering eyes looked about the room, took in the pale yellow
dresser with its orderly rows of cups and saucers and wide drawers
below, the white kitchen cupboards each side of it, the draped door-
way into the scullery, the scrubbed table and four pale yellow
enamelled chairs, the black and scarlet lino tiles
•on the floor.
"You and your mother did all this?"
She nodded, took a white table cloth and napkins from a drawer.
"It looked cosier, when Mother was here. A
copper warming pan hung where, you're standing and we had a
two-gallon copper jug down there near the hearth.
Pewter mugs and Spode plates stood along the shelf above the
window, and the curtains were an old daffodil and
crocus pattern that you never see these days. My mother had
some of her treasures packed and dispatched before She left."
"Then why do you stay away from them?" She didnt answer,
and he turned to direct at her the grey stare. "All
to discriminate."
"It's quite likely," she told him mildly, "that he will be the right
one. I shouldn't worry about it if I were you, Mr. Fenner. Excuse me. I
have to set the dining-room
table."
"Not for me," he said stiffly. "I'll eat in here."
She shook her head. "From today, you're a paying guest, and
you'll be treated as one. I shall charge you well."
He said grimly, "You can work yourself to rags for your mother,
but you're not doing it for me. Till you get assistance my friends and I
will eat in.the kitchen. That's
flati"
How did one deal with a man who was friendly one moment and
glittering at you with hostility the next? Tess didn't try to fathom it
out. She dusted the table and spread the cloth, found cutlery and set
out cups and saucers. He dropped halved tomatoes into the pan,
shoved the meat
Tess served the meal and cut the new loaf he had brought. She
sat opposite him and ate, asked polite ques-tions about his profession,
heard that he had been on bridge-building projects both for the
government and for private contractors up and down the country. He
had an uncle who ran a firm of civil engineers in Toronto, but didn't
fancy getting stuck there yet. He liked spending a few months now
and then on a mining venture; there was something about setting in
motion the machinery for
22
"I suppose you know the country pretty thoroughly," she
commented.
"A few cousins, two other uncles and their wives. My home,
when I need one, is with the uncle in Toronto."
"Maybe there was more rain that way and the road was bad."
"I didn't touch Vancouver, but south of the Kenegan Hills there
wasn't much rain. My colleagues were travelling together so if there'd
been any trouble on the road one of them could have telephoned a
message through to Belton. Well, I suppose they'll turn up some
time." He finished his apple, got out cigarettes. "Smoke?"
"Mind if I do?"
"Go ahead. I'll bring your second cup of coffee to the lounge, if
you like."
"I'll take it with me. Got some papers to look through." He went
out casually, shouldering through the swing
door with a coffee cup in one hand and a sheaf of docu-ments he
had taken from his raincoat pocket in the other. Tess stood up quickly,
began at once to clear the table. Then as she strode on the pedal of the
bin she smiled to
23
Garth House.
. It was one of the best rooms, worth fifteen per cent more than
the others in the season because it was right next to the new bathroom
and had a balcony overlooking the lake. Standing near the window
and gazing over sunshot water that mirrored the tall pines, she had
often dreamed of the time when, after the new hotel was built, she and
her father and mother would occupy the whole house them-selves.
There would be an upstairs study and a sewing room, two pretty guest
rooms for their friends—by then they would have plenty of friends!—
and this bedroom would become a gracefully-furnished sitting-room,
with a flight of steps leading down from the balcony on to the
lawn.
The next best thing to dreaming of the future had been to occupy
the room whenever she could, to enjoy the dark polished wood and
apricot linen, the hooked blue rug and flowery bedside lamp. Tonight
she shut out the rainy darkness by drawing the curtains, and then she
sat down and began a letter to her mother; began it, but could go no
further. No use telling her about this new possibility until Mr. Nieland
had set upon it his seal of approval; and what else was there to say?
That she was well but had been a bit lonely? That she was looking
forward to returning
to England?
24
She fe|ded her bedspread and laid it on the twin bed, caught
a^flection of herself in the mirror and remained
still, examining it. Hardly any wave to the shortish hair, just a
curly tendril or two close to the temple;, the pale stuff did have a
shine, but its color, true ash with a streak or two of golden-white, had
always annoyed her mother. Mrs. Harvey had had genuine golden
coloring and fine hazel eyes when she was young, and she would have
liked a pale-skinned, golden daughter. But Tess had turned out
whitish, with a skin that tanned easily and dark blue eyes; when her
hair was trimmed she looked like a boy who worked and dreamed
under the sun. Now .she flipped her fingers. Lord knows why she
should suddenly be interested in her looks 1
It was nearly ten when she decided to go below and make the
acquaintance of Mr. Maxwell and Mr. Kain. She switched off the
light and went out into the corridor which ended at the stair-head, was
half-way along it when the light failed. Drat, and there were no bulbs
up here . . .
unless she could borrow one from one of the empty bed-rooms.
She went into a room and snapped down the switch; still no light.
Bother the wornout wiring! That meant there were no lights in the
whole place.
Tess didn't have to grope; she knew the house too well. She took
the stairs and went into the lounge. Steve Fenner was striking a match
near the hardly discernible window.
"I don't think so. The wiring is rotten in parts. I'm terribly sorry.
Stay there and I'll get some paraffin lamps."
"I'll go out to my car for a torch, to help you."
Tess knelt before the scullery cupboard and brought out a couple
of lamps, struck a match and discovered that the lamps had been
emptied and cleaned. She turned as Steve Penner entered the small
space, flashing a light.
"No kerosense?" he queried.
"Not a spot. I poured the last into the fridge tank yester-
: day. I didn't order any more because I thought it might , be
unwise to leave it here while the place was empty."
"We'll turn it off." He did so, and looked at her face. lit by the
flickering yellow candlelight. "Not frightened, are
you?"
"No." But she spoke a little jerkily. "I've been through
this before."
some tea?"
"No, thanks. I was going to make coffee and sandwiches for you
and your friends."
"That's their loss. You go to bed. Take one of the candles and
leave me the other."
"I'd better melt some candle-wax and stick two more candles in
saucers. Your friends will think this is awfully
queer."
"They'll never know, honey. I'll get it fixed up first thing
in the morning."
"I went out for my bag and a batch of mail the clerk handed me
at the hotel. Kain and Maxwell aren't coming tonight. They'll be here
by noon tomorrow. Seems Max-well had some trouble and had to stay
over; it's all in a letter he wrote to me care of the hotel, but the clerk
there had shoved everything into one large envelope and I thought it
was all business stuff."
"You might have looked!"
26
two or three hours just waiting for those two this afternoon if I'd
known they weren't coming? I did look through the letters inside the
packet of mail, but I missed Maxwell's letter because the address was
typed and he'd used one
, Shakily, she moved across the kitchen and out into the rear
hall. She walked to the foot of the stairs, realized she was holding
both candles and held one out to him. He took it and placed it on a
table.
"Go on, get cracking," he said evenly. "Good night." Tess turned
too quickly and placed a foot on the lowest
"I've been needing a "singe," she said. "May I have the candle?
I'll take more care."
••• last thing I shall ever want from you is love and kisses.
[ Remember that."
| Tess lifted her head. "That's most reassuring," she said. I-'1 "I
shall be very glad to remember it. And if you'd rather
g" use a bedroom, try Number Three. It's the second on the | left
from the top of the staircase. Good night."
| the stairs, along the corridor and into her room. There
| . 27
key in the lock and got into her pyjamas. It was not till she was
lying in the darkness that her fingers sought the harsh ends of hair
where the flame had caught them. Her cheek was still hot from
contact with checked shirting, her throat ached with . . . was it
mortification or some kind of need? As if she cared what the man
thought of her! As if it mattered that he didn't find her the kind of girl
who roused
him in any way. That was all to the good, surely? What
had he ..expected of her in the circumstances—sophistica-
tion, the light touch? Well, she just didn't know enough
about men to react in a worldly way. Tomorrow he and
his friends could go off and find accommodation elsewhere.
She would tell him first thing, before he got busy with the
steely-eyed nonchalance. She didn't want the man here,
didn't want his offer of partnership. More than anything
she wanted to be sure that when he left tomorrow she
wouldn't see him again, ever.
CHAPTER TWO
In the kitchen she paused. The stove was hot, the cloth on the
table and coffee keeping warm. The man had apparently had
breakfast, for the things he had used were piled in the sink. Tess didn't
want to think about him; some time during the morning she would tell
him what she
had decided, and that would be that. But why spoil her appetite
by thinking out how to approach the subject? Why think anything
out? He meant nothing whatever to Tess Harvey and Kenegan.
She ate toast and honey, drank some of the coffee, cleared away
and went upstairs to make her bed. Passing Number Three, she saw
that the bedclothes were turned back to the foot, the windows wide.
So he had come up after all, and she hadn't even been aware of it. In
spite
of herself, Tess laughed. What the dickens! Why should she turn
away three good customers? They'd stay a few weeks, pay season's
rates and be away all day. She would be far better off staying here and
housekeeping for them than working down in the town and living
under Mrs. Lesley's thumb at the Nielands'. There would be no smart
clothes to buy, no driving backwards and forwards in the old
car; above all, no sense of obligation to Dick and his father.
Come to think of it, the three men, between them, might obviate the
need for a handyman, and she would only have to look for a woman
to help about the place; yes, she must definitely have another woman
on the premises, though how to get hold of one who would be willing
to live away from. town was rather a problem. The only sort available
in Pelton were married women who
29
"Not for this. Don't forget the kerosene. And for heaven's sake
get hold of a home help!"
"I'll try. You ... do think it's safe to order food for
three men?"
said:
"Don't worry about this stable companion of yours. The
streamlined job only belongs to a man, but you're
luckier—you're mine!"
She gave a patronizing kick at the front tire of the tan estate car
and slipped into her own driving seat; after which she felt much more
like Tess of Garth House. In fact, as she left the place behind she
began to hum to
herself.
It was the sort of perfect morning you get in British Columbia
after summer rain. Warm and windless, sparkl-ing clear fragrant with
the scent of rock-flowers and even sweet-tasting on the lips. Spruce
and hemlock looked clean and arrogant; the crags beyond the lake,
visible now and then as she moved down the road, were warm-
"30
toned among their growth and the distant mountains were a hazy
amethyst. Life itself had a fresh-sprung look, a glorious newness.
Where the road forked Tess angled to the right. The road to the
left went straight down to the luxurious end of the lake. If she had
stopped just there, at the fork, she could have looked down upon gaily
painted canoes, a pretty stonework pier, thatched roofs of summer
cottages, and the elaborately-casual frontage of the Lake Kenegan
Hotel. That was where the Pelton townspeople spent their week-ends,
where people from Alberta and Saskatchewan fished and swam, rode
and danced, and had camp-fire parties during month4ong vacations.
Tess had been to the hotel once, for dinner on her eighteenth birthday;
her father
had insisted on it, and spent the whole evening promising her
mother and herself that one day they would own such a set-up
themselves.
a case of once stung. He knew all about women; you could tell it
in the way he spoke even to someone as negligible
as Tess, in the way he had guessed her thoughts when the lights
had failed and she had realized they were alone last night.
31
dried fruits and cereals. Oh, and yeast cakes. She wasn't such a
good bread-maker as her mother, but travelling into town each day for
bread would take too much time. Actually, housekeeping for three
men wasn't such a colossal task-; it was/caring for them in such a
sprawling, inconvenient place as Garth House that would take time
and energy. The boiler fire to be kept going for hot water, the stove
for cooking, the great lounge to be kept polished and neat, the rugs
and stairs, corridors and bedrooms. There was a vacuum cleaner and a
polisher of sorts, but
Pelton; they led sociable lives, had their two cinemas, hotel
a nervous young man who had studiously skirted the subject for
an hour before asking Tess to be his partner at some function, and the
other had emanated from an enamelled woman who had first stated,
rather loudly, that "something should be done about that girl." Tess
had smilingly declined both offers, and forgotten them. In slacks or
jeans she was like any other local girl of her age. In frocks she was
about four years out of date; which was why her dresses hung right at
the back of her wardrobe, clean for the most part but undisturbed.
32
"Yes, we are," said the elder. "I'm George Maxwell and this is
Roland Kain. You'd better let us fix the tire for you."
Tess Harvey," she said hurriedly. "Just put the cartoa of eggs
into the back seat of your bus and let me get going. It's only three
miles, so I'm not likely to do it any
harm."
"You stay here, girlie," said Roland Kain. "We're not sticklers
for a one o'clock lunch, and George is fond of
this car."
"No, let her take it," said the older man. His smile was slow and
rugged, but exceptionally pleasant. "Has Steve gone out this morning,
Miss Harvey?"
"I don't think so. I left him repairing the electric wiring." Roland
Kain laughed outright. "Sounds as if you're the
"Go right ahead," he said. "And don't worry about the eggs. I'll
see that we don't break any."
"Thanks." She had opened the door of the black car and slipped
behind the wheel, and was eyeing the shining dashboard. "She's a
beauty, Mr. Maxwell. I promise not to leave a speck of dust on your
upholstery and to rub off my fingerprints!"
"Don't worry about that. You'll find the gears very similar to the
Buick's. Don't race her."
"Of course not." She switched on, slipped in the gear and started
the car moving. "Be seeing you!"
It was an English cay of medium size, smooth-running even on
the rough road, and a pleasure to handle after the bucking thing she
was accustomed to. In no time at all
34
she was curving down towards the front of Garth House» The
place seemed even more deserted than when she had
left it. The tan estate car was in the barn, but in the house hung a
deathly quiet. The kitchen stove had been filled and was flaming
merrily and a pile of split logs lay drying at the back of it. The blue
ash tray on the window-sill had a cigarette stubbed out in it, and there
were muddy foot-marks near the back door. Tess wiped them away
and looked outside. Not a soul, anywhere.
Upstairs, she changed into clean slacks and shirt, noticed that
the step-ladder had disappeared from the bathroom
and the trap-door replaced. She tried a switch and found it
worked; good for Mr. Fenner, who apparently was a notorious chafer
in the domestic realm.
"All our rooms are doubles, but I thought you'd like one each,"
she said. "Mr. Fenner will explain to you how things are here. We
were closing down, but as we're the nearest place to your mine it
seemd to be best for you to stay here, even though we're not geared
for guests. I'll make you as comfortable as I can."
"I can't wait to know more about this place . . . and you," said
Roland Kain. "You've got me guessing, sweetie."
he came from his own room and joined the three of them in the
next doorway. "How goes it, George?"
35
"We're not staying unless you do get someone. Quitt apart from
the fact that we're three bachelors, there's toe much work in running
the place. For a few days, till oui plant arrives, we shan't be able to do
a great deal on the site, but after that we'll be too busy to help much
here, except at weekends."
"I know all about Garth House," she said. "You let me do the
worrying."
"Cut along, child," said Steve calmly. "We'll deal with the
problems as they turn up."
met.
No doubt about it, until she had help the men would have to eat
in here; Steve Fenner would insist on it. So her next task was to
construct a dining nook. With the table pushed over to he window,
and a place laid at each end with one facing the garden, they could be
quite cut
36
off from the cooking 'if not from its smell. At one side there was
the wall, and at the other she might stand one of those backless
bookc'ases from the hall.
Tess lugged it in and set it where she wanted it. What could she
put on the shelves? The two miniature ivy plants midway, two
ashtrays within easy reach of the table and on the top shelf the brass
lamp from the dining-room. It was the only piece of brass or copper
her mother ;had left behind—because it had been badly smashed on
the way out from England and cost a lot to repair.
She laid the table, stood back and surveyed the alcove. It needed
a tiny bowl of flowers, but she hadn't time to go out and collect some;
she might get them in time for din-ner. Pity that the window, since her
mother had taken the fine daffodil and crocus print, was quite bare,
but that too could be remedied this afternoon. There was some green-
and white plastic curtaining left over from the making
of the shower curtain in the new bathroom. She hoped those
men would go out after lunch and leave her to get on with things in
her own way.
Normally, as the clock in the lounge struck one, Tess banged the
gong in the hall. Well, why not be as normal as one could, even in
unusual circumstances? She heard the clang of the clock, picked up
the drumstick and beat a tattoo. Through the open doorway she heard
the men on the stairs; Steve walking with George Maxwell and
talking earnestly, Roland Kain a little way behind them, looking a bit
cut off from the others. But the young man smiled cheerfully as he
came into the kitchen and saw
"Take your places, will you?" she said politely. "I've been a bit
rushed this morning, so the food is homely, I'm afraid. Usually we
serve cold meats and salad as well as a grill of some sort, and I'll try
to do that for you in future."
37
With her teeth a little tight, Tess watched him take cutlery from
the drawer and set her place. She brought an extra plate, tightened a
little more as Steve seated
her beside Roland Kain opposite the window, before taking the
left side of the table, right next to her. She wasn't a
bit surprised when he took the pile of plates and ladled the food;
you got so that you expected anything of the man.
After the first five minutes talk flowed fairly smoothly. Roland
gave a picturesque description of their finding Tess under the old car,
and she discovered that he was the sur-veyor and George Maxwell the
geologist. George had been this way before, sampling the subsoil and
the rocks of an old working in the vicinity; he smiled faintly as he told
Tess that he had actually called in at Garth House for a drink one day,
and seen her racing down to the lake with
a dog.
"That was Fritz, our German shepherd," she said with a sigh. "I
thought I'd be leaving soon, and gave him away just over a week
ago."
"It wouldn't be fair to him, and I couldn't bear to part with him a
second time. He was a lovely boy."
she asked.
"Fond? I don't mush over dogs, but I like them so long as they
keep their place."
"That's really your philosophy in life, isn't it?" she said, as she
got up to clear away the plates and bring the apples and peach tartlets.
"You get along fine with everyone so long as they kept their place.
Well, do you mind if I
"Sit down, honey, you .talk too much," he said coolly. "Kain
will get the coffee."
38
After lunch the men cleared out. From an upstairs window Tess
saw them down at the lake, inspecting the old boat-house and hauling
out the canoe. The boat, she was sure, would never meet with Mr.
Fenner's approval— too clumsy and light, too badly in need of
sandpapering and repainting. Well, if they wanted a boat—as they
surely would at the weekends—they'd have to smarten the thing up or
buy a new one. She saw Steve stride off alone into the woods, saw
George Maxwell leaning against an outcrop, and staring at the lake as
if he had a problem the size of a house on his shoulders. Roland Kain
had found a patch of grass, stretched himself out and ap-parently gone
to sleep. Flippantly, Tess decided that each was acting in character ...
so far.
On the old sewing machine she ran a double hem along two
lengths of plastic curtaining, and then hung them on the rod at the
kitchen window. She settled the evening's menu and ussd the old
polisher on the lounge and hall floors. At four-thirty s>he made a pot
of tea, poured a cup and drank it while filling the paraffin lamps; if
the wiring cut any more capers she would be ready for it!
She had just washed the smell from her fingers and gone back to
the table to refill her cup when Roland Kain sauntered into the
kitchen. In one so dark-haired his eyes were a little startling; a very
clear brown which, when daylight cut across them, seemed to change
color. His mouth, for a man, was a trifle too full, but his smooth,
thinnish face was attractive. In Tess's limited experience handsome
men were always conceited. Still, at the mo-ment he looked
companionable, leaning back against the wall behind the table and
glancing her way as she wiped her hands and hung up the towel
"Like a cup of tea?" she asked.
"I'm not a tea man, but I'll take one if there's nothing else
going."
39
"I guessed you weren't Canadian. Did you hear the call of the
wild?"
"Oh, yes. Some men seem to have the odd notion that coloring
tinges a girl's character, too. But don't you believe it."
"Is that a warning?"
"If you need one." Tess took a bag of peas from the vegetable
rack and set about shelling them. "Do you walk about with a
theodolite and take' measurements?"
"Yes, some of the time. Don't you like talking about ' yourself?"
•"Gosh, no!" He had exclaimed swiftly, but took his time before
asking, "Can you imagine a worse dilemma than being responsible for
one little woman and wanting to marry another, who won't have you
till the first one is disposed of? Sounds cockeyed, but that's George's
prob-lem."
strung types and he went off the rails, with the result that
George had to look after both mother and half-sister. In
a way, I suppose, that sort of set-up was easy for George, but
he's likely to take his duties too seriously. The mother was ill and
engaged a nurse who stayed until the mother's death. The nurse is the
woman he wants to marry."
"Well, if they're both free ..."
"The lady is, but not George. There's the half-sister."
"Is she ill, or .something? But if she were, the nurse . .."
"She's not ill. Just over a year ago she married one of these rich
young playboys; he had a single-seater plane
and one foggy afternoon he hit a hill. So the girl's a tragic little
widow, clinging to George, and it seems that George is now in a spot
where he has to choose between his duty. to her and his feelings for
the other woman. Needless
to say, the two women dislike each other intensely." "The poor
man," said Tess slowly. "It does seem that
"No," regretfully. "I did see the nurse, though, just for a
moment. She's one of those rather fine-looking, collected women,
around thirty."
"Oh, dear." Tess shook down the heap of peas in the bowl.
"What do you suppose he'll do?"
"Being George, he'll do the right thing if it kills him. And being
George, he'll decide that the most difficult course will be the right
one."
ing to get her consent this time home, and to fix a date. The
company has already agreed to find him a house and use him as a
resident geologist. Except for little sister, everything would have been
fine."
She nodded thoughtfully. "Yet you can't blame the sister
entirely. Losing her young husband must have been a terrible shock;
her brother is probably the only stable thing in her world just now."
She smiled. "I can't bear dumb suffering. If you ever suffer you
won't be dumb about it."
42
for here and at the site, and off my own bat I'll find a bottle
store. Like to go down town with me?"
"I'll repay you some other time. If you want to be sure of finding
all your shops open you'd better hurry."
Tess heard him go whistling into the yard; the roar of a car as he
zoomed away. Keen on himself but quite agree-able, she decided. She
hadn't met many Englishmen at Kenegan; had forgotten that a good-
looking Englishman is rather a refreshing sight, even if there did
happen to be things about him one didn't care for very much. Then,
. feeling there ought to be a large fruit cake to cut at, she began
measuring ingredients and .forgot Roland Kain.
"Right here, baby," Roland said from the doorway. In one arm
he carried four bottles; the other hand was out-stretched, offering a
box of chocolates. "For the blonde with forget-me-not blue eyes. Ta-
ra-ral"
Tess took the box awkwardly, slanted a quick glance at the other
two men and said matter-of-factly, "Thanks, but don't ever do
anything like this again. I ... I don't want presents from any of you."
I "Warwickshire."
; 43
"I come from Gloucester, so we're practically next-door
neighbors. If we'd stayed over there I'd probably have met you at a
cricket match. The next step would have been a theatre, and who ever
takes a girl to a theatre without giving her chocolates? The dinner
smells good. Let me take the tureen for you."
She felt a bit sick and fed up, and sat through dinner almost in
silence. Roland was talkative, George smiled at her encouragingly,
but Steve looked disinterested and pre-occupied. Bother him, she
thought crossly, it's not my fault that his surveyor happens to be a
ladies' man.
When the coffee was ready she stood up. "I'll serve coffee for
you men in the lounge, if you don't mind. You can talk in there as
long as you like."
There was a brief silence. Then Steve said, "A good idea. We'll
take the tray with us. Pour your own cup first."
She did, not very steadily. As she replaced the pot her hand
brushed his and involuntarily she looked up at him. There was a
mocking glint in the grey eyes, a calculating half-smile on the well-
defined mouth; he was strong and challenging and quite
uncomprehensible. Tess had always been reckoned intelligent, but to
deal with some men you need more than intelligence; you need a
double share of intuition and sharp wits. She was glad when she had
the kitchen once. more to herself.
Ten minutes later George came in to help with the clearing up.
Of the three, Tess thought thankfully, he was the one she would have
chosen. He was quiet and elder-brotherly, seemed to know
instinctively where things were
kept, and he didn't look as ass wiping dishes. George didn't ask
probing questions or flatter her, he didn't have that I-am-not-as-other-
men attitdue. He merely rolled his shirt-sleeves above his elbows, got
on with the job and spoke only as if she were Tess Harvey, who he
had met just a few hours ago and was glad to know.
His sandy coloring, she decided .suited him very well, though he
shouldn't have been grey at the temples just yet. She liked his good,
rugged features, his smell of tobacco smoke, the pleasant look which
wasn't quite a smile. He was dependable, stoical and altogether nice.
By the time he had piled wood on the back of the stove for the morn-
ing and departed to attend to the boiler fire in the base-ment, Tess was
robustly partisan about George Maxwell.
She went upstairs, thinking she would have a bath and get to
bed. But through her window she saw starlight over the lake and felt
the summer breeze, and on an impulse she slipped a cardigan over
her .blouse and went down-stairs again, and out of the back door.
Keeping away from the house she found a path to the lakeside,
reached her favorite spot and sat down on the rustic bench which was
one of the first things her father had made at Kenegan. • She lay back
with her arm along the back of the bench and her heels dug into the
soft earth. A few insects whir-red softly, but it was very peaceful, like
lots of other summer nights she had known. There had never been
much noise in the evening at Garth House; the radio occasionally,
perhaps a guest who played some musical instrument or sang; never a
raucous noise, because the people who came to Garth House had been
white-collar workers who found that living an outdoor life was
physic-ally tiring.
For Canada, Lake Kenegan was tiny, hardly more than eight
miles long and only two miles across at its widest spot. Several
streams spilled into it, gurgling down over the rocks and foaming
through growth in unexpected places to form rapids, and most of its
shores were lined with Douglas firs and hemlock, spruce and white-
oaks. Tess had seen huge mechanical equipment handling immense
pines for the sawmill in Pelton. She had also seen a small pine forest
after a hurricane, the trunks criss-crossed on the ground.
45
Down at the lower end of the lake, where the hotels and summer
cottages were filled for six months of the year, the streams had been
coerced to run under arty bridges and there were pools where trout
spawned. Everything there was done with an eye to rich tourists.
Comparatively, this end of the lake was unspoiled, and Tess still felt
she didn't want to be here when progress came.
she .had philosophically accepted the fact that they must sell and
make a fresh start in England. It was only during the last day or two,
really, that...
She stiffened and sat very still. A tall, broad-shouldered figure
stood just over there, on the other path. It was Steve, taking a last
stroll before bed. He had paused with his hands in his pockets, looked
up at the sky and across at
the wide reach of water which starlight had varnished dully and
beautifully. In a light shirt and slacks he looked to be more part of this
place than anyone she had ever known. He had the vitality of the
young country, the strength needed to develop it, the ruthlessness (hat
would wring the utmost from that strength. For some reason Tess
ached a little.
He fumed and saw her, came across the rocks and patches of
wild flowers. "Hallo, there," he said. "Why are you mooning by the
lake?"
He sat down at her side, and she drew her arm from behind him.
He smiled, his teeth white in the darkness. "Does it feel odd to have
your arm round a man? What about Dickie-boy? Do you ever spoon
down here with him?"
"What's it to you, Mr. Fenner?"
"Oh, come—make it Steve. Were you feeling lonely?"
"No."
you today?"
46
/"
"Then why did you leave his chocolates unopened in the
kitchen? Don't you like chocolates?"
"I love them," she said, on a dogged note. "I'll get them when I
go in."
"You won't, honey. I shoved the whole box in the fire." She
stared at him, her eyes large and bright in the dark-
^ "I don't think so, but I can cope," he said tolerantly. We're
back where we were at lunch-time, and that's where
"Let's say we're well beyond the cub stage. Kain has had dozens
of girls and has no intention of marrying. George
... well, George has problems as well as a woman he wants but
can't have."
"I like it," he said equably. "It gives one an objective slant on all
women. Isn't it time you went indoors? You've had a long day."
"Not so very. You had breakfast and were striding about in the
roof when I got up."
"I'm not a stripling female. Come on, let's go."
47
She passed him and entered the house, mounted the stairs at
once, unconscious that her hand was pressing against her heart as if to
ease the effect of a sudden blow.
CHAPTER THREE
FOR the next couple of days Tess was so busy that she had no
time at all for examining her emotions, and by the time she had more
freedom the state of her feelings had changed a little and become far
less important than other things.
From then on, the men had breakfast at seven and cleared off
with a packed lunch an hour later. Tess next saw them at about five,
and they spent the evenings over drawings and sheets of figures. The
very fact of their being absent all day eased things considerably, and
she found it wasn't necessary to bake bread after all. She had time to
slip into town whenever she wished.
With surprise, one, afternoon, she realized that the three men
had been at Kenegan a whole week and that already she had slipped
into a routine; a routine, moreover, which
49
strangely cut her off from the rest of the district. About Pelton
she had never known more than one could learn in the local paper; the
activities of this social club and that, sports results, wedding reports, a
spattering of petty crime. But through Dick and her mother's
friendship with his father, she had been fairly close to the Nielands;
scarcely a day had passed but father or son had called at Garth House
for a cup of tea or a glass of lager. It seemed that neither of them had
yet returned from Calgary. Mrs. Lesley seldom stirred from Blue
Valley, but she had offered to do some cooking for Garth House while
she was more or less idle. Tess wondered, and then suddenly, late that
afternoon, she decided to drive over to the ranch. After -all, she had a
legitimate reason for wanting to see Mr. Nieland.
The weather was sunless and sultry; before long there would be
storms, and then the weather would clear and be cooler than it had
been lately. The ranch looked sleepy, but as she drove through the
small pasture to the house the foreman came from an outhouse and
tipped a finger at his Stetson.
50
Garth House, or part of it at least. Steve's offer of that sum for a
half-share was tempting, but it could not be accepted till she had Mr.
Nieland's agreement and her mother's consent. Her mother, Tess
knew, would not
; start dinner. The electric water pump had gone haywire '•
again and she could hear it chugging away and pumping
nothing. She switched off the electricity and slipped round to the
little brick kennel in which the pump was housed,
^looked at her watch. Nearly six; they were late this I? evening.
H'- They came in ten minutes later, said "Hi," as they passed
H'through the kitchen on their way upstairs. Roland Kain ||"winked at
Tess. "What about a movie tonight, sweetie-pie?" Jji^he asked, and
she smiled. It was one of his gambits and
|*as usual it misfired. He went up behind the others.
8, At a quarter to seven she served the dinner. There were
g;the customary questions: how had she been making
11-out . . .? any mail from her mother . . .? any visitors? IF
"None at all. Are you expecting any?" she asked.
|fc "My last girl might chase me up," said Roland face-
JJItiously, "but I think her red head was synthetic; deep down
gshe's probably a phlegmatic mouse-color."
^ "And glad to be rid of you," Tess commented. She y^ooksd at
Steve. "Are you expecting someone?"
"There'll be company directors, but not for a month or
two." r
, "And George?"
who helped to clear tonight, and Tess was rather glad. Now that
the young surveyor knew where he stood with her he was quite good
fun; she promised him that one evening she really would go with him
to a movie. He had gone down to the boiler fire and she was spreading
the breakfast cloth when a car drew up outside.
"Tess!"
She wished her heart wouldn't jump alarmingly when Steve used
her name; it was absurd. "Coming," she called, and resignedly pulled
the sock from her hand and laid
it on the table.
Quite what she thought he might want Tess couldn't have said.
Sometimes he even called her to sit with them— "so that we know
you're resting, you little nitwit." She went through the hall and into
the half-lit lounge, stopped abruptly.
There was a girl in one of the chairs, a small creature with very
pale skin and a cloud of smoky dark hair— masses of hair for
someone so delicately boned. She had wide. topaz eyes, small regular
features and wrists which looked terribly fragile below the three-
quarter sleeves of a smart purple tweed frock.
Gorge Maxwell was standing beside her, smiling anxiously.
"This is my sister, Tess—Anita Vance. She
52
Tess looked at George, saw that he was torn between the desire
to have this sister of his close, where he could look after and comfort
her, and the knowledge that Anita Vance might be in the way. Then
Tess looked at Steve, and the heart which had jumped a minute ago
did some-thing equally upsetting; it plunged steeply. For Steve was
smiling openly at George's half-sister, and looking as if it were a long
time since he had seen anything so pathetic and yet refreshing as this
tiny little thing from Vancouver.
She said, "I'm sure we can fix you up, Mrs. Vance. Welcome to
Garth House."
George looked shocked. "My dear, I'm glad you were able to
find this place in the dark. You must certainly remain here tonight,
and tomorrow we'll talk it over. Have you had dinner?"
Tess said flatly, "We'll wait till you're an inmate before teaching
you the ropes. You stay here. I'll get the coffee."
When she arrived back in the kitchen Tess found her hands
clenched. Roland was stacking the nightly load of logs on the back of
the stove, and he asked casually, "Who is it—that big Butch chap
from the camp?"
53
"No," she answered evenly. "It's that small Anita girl from
Vancouver—George's half-sister. You'd better go through and take a
look; that'll make three of you she's bowled over."
Roland looked interested. "She that sort? She's got money, too. I
must have a dekko at this!"
Tess made the coffee, set a tray and was arranging a few cookies
on a plate when George came in. For George, he appeared slightly
flushed and apologetic. He didn't quite look at Tess.
"She'll help you a lot as soon as she's over the trip. I ... I did
think of asking whether you'd care to have Anita, but somehow I
couldn't get round to it. She's terribly lonely, and it does help her to be
near me; she's looking better already."
"I'll make up a bed for her. Are you taking the tray?" "Of course.
Tess . . ." he hesitated, a biggish, rugged
man, uncertain of himself. "I don't quite know how to ask
this . . . you see, Anita lost her husband a few months ago."
"Yes, I heard."
"She was married only a few months, and it broke her up.
She . . . well, she's never known anyone, sane and sweet as you are;
she's always ran with a rich, noisy crowd. I suppose I'm to blame; I
sent her to that kind of finishing school and never kept her short of
cash. She needs to know someone like you, someone who lives close
to things and isn't afraid. I was wondering—if we decide she's to
remain here, that is—whether you'd get her to talk and try to make her
see that the real things in life aren't very closely connected with
money and personal pleasures. As long as she can stick it out here, it
should do her a world of good in many ways. Will you help me?"
"I'll try, George," she said a bit stiffly, "though she has too much
experience to listen very hard to someone like me." She lifted her
head and saw a sort of stubborn pain in his'eyes, and being a softie,
she relented. "Just being
54
here, away from her usual crowd, may help your sister no end,
George. I'll do what I can."
"No. We each favor our own father. Hers was an artistic type,
fall temperament. He cleared off to the South Seas and died there." He
picked up the tray in his big brown hands. Awkwardly, he added. "I'll
pay the double bill each week; you and Anita can just be friendly,
without any
You could see, Tess thought, as she nodded and smiled at him
and then went upstairs, that he had taken it for granted his sister
would stay at Garth House for as long as he did. Well, why shouldn't
she? An extra guest would increase the income, and Anita Vance was
not likely to add much to the food bills. She looked as if she existed
on bird seed, though small people often ate prodigiously.
Tess's first impulse, bom of the years in which guests had been
given the best while the Harveys made do, was
for Anita. Then, rather quickly, she came out of her room and
slammed the door. There was an empty room on the other side of the
new bathroom; it had no balcony and the furnishings were older, but it
was otherwise as large and comfortable as the best room. Anita could
have that.
Tess made the bed and hung fresh towels in the bath-room. She
slipped the key into the lock of the bedroom door, made sure the
wardrobe drawers were lined and there were hangers on the rail. Then
she decided to have a bath and go to bed.
While she lay reading she heard sounds on the stairs. George
bringing up his sister's luggage. She called out the number of the
room and he answered gratefully. Then came the roar of water in the
bathroom, and Anita's phoney little high-school voice: "That's lovely,
George. I'm going to wallow."
^ Then George: "Have a long rest in the morning, Anita. I'm
sure this air is going to do you good."
55
She peered over the balcony wall and for a long time
watched the lights downstairs. They went out, one by one,
and the men came up to bed. Tess felt wide awake, and
she been a smoker she could have lit a cigarette and let
She switched off her light and saw that someone had put out the
corridor light, which was all to the good. Quietly, on bare feet, she
edged into the corridor, flitted along it and down the stairs. The
kitchen was at the back and only Roland had a back bedroom, and a
light down there wouldn't bother him; he was never curious about
such things.
The kettle she had left on the stove was fairly hot, and a few
sticks under it brought it to the boil. She made the tea, poured a cup
and sat down near the side table, where the socks she had been going
to mend still lay. She pushed them together in a heap, and leaned
back. Her eyes closed, and then, suddenly, they flicked wide open and
stared at Steve. He was still in white shirt and grey slacks, and he
looked nonchalant as he pressed out his cigarette on one of the
ashtrays on the bookshelf.
56
"No, thanks. I'll get you a spot of whisky; it'll-make you sleep."
She didn't stop him, but when he came back from the
j cigarettes from his pocket. "Come on, try one. It won't I'1 kill
you."
| "I may have a stab at it one day, but certainly not in I front of
you. Have a highball yourself."
| He put the cigarettes close to her. "Take them up to
j? and dropped about a spoonful into her tea. "What shall S'-we
drink to—the future of Garth House?"
"What's right for one might be wrong for another. George is one
of the old dependables and he had no option; Anita has come first
with him since she was a child, and he couldn't let her wade through
all the grief on her own."
"Of course not, but there should have been a time limit of sorts.
I mean," fingering her cup once more and looking away from him, "he
might have married and had his sister to live with them for a period,
say a year. It would have been good for Anita, and George and
this . ; . this Frances Brodie could have been happy as well."
Steve shrugged. "It wouldn't have worked. Even before I'd met
Anita I thought that. I must say," with a glint in his eye, "that she was
quite a surprise. That hair!"
"But why turn her loose? You say that if George married this
woman he's fond of he couldn't have Anita to live
with them. Why?"
George?" -
"Yes," she said honestly, "I believe I have. He's as big as you
are, and strong, but there's a look in his eyes sometimes that definitely
shouldn't be there. Of the three of you," she ended off-handedly, "I
find George the most touching."
58
"It's simple. Frances wouldn't have it. She's known George for
eight years—known Anita too, of course. She told me herself that
she'd rather stay single than marry George and Anita."
He said impatiently, "I don't know, young Tess, and I don't care.
George is getting towards forty and Frances is thirty. There's nothing
impetuous or youthful about either of them. Compared with them,
Anita is just an unfortunate child who needs affection and
understanding. And in my opinion," he finished in level tones, "she
badly needs the right kind of husband."
"You . . i. think she'll find him?"
"It's possible. She's had her fling with the young and
"How do you know? He's done no more for you than Roland
has—or than I have, come to that."
"I don't judge men by what they do for me. George
"Well, well!"
; like George and never know just how exciting love can
be." "Have you found it exhilirating?"
;' He smiled tantalizingly. "Maybe I'll tell you all about it
"No, thanks."
"No frock?" he said shrewdly.
She ignored the question. "I'm simply the person who's running
Garth House; if you don't mind, I'll stay that way." Then, because
something hurt a little, she asked abruptly, "Why did you follow me
down here?"
"It v/asn't a good idea to follow me, either," she replied quickly.
"Now that we have Mrs. Vance in the house we'll make a few
alterations. She'll lighten the work for me, so it won't be necessary
any longer for you men to eat in here. Breakfast, if you like, but that's
all. I'm quite sure she'd prefer to eat in the dining-room."
"That's all right—so long as you'll eat with us."
She shook her head decisively and stood up. "No, -that' finished.
You're paying hotel prices and you'll get hotel service. Also, if you
don't mind, you'll treat me as the person I am. I'll be grateful if you
men will continue to take turns at looking after the fires, but that's all.
I mean
it."
"Oh, sure," he drawled, a cold light in his eyes. "For a start,
then, you can leave the holes in those socks over there. Anita will
mend them for us."
"Very well."
"And now you'd better go up to bed!"
"I'll go when I'm ready."
"You'll go now, and I'll switch off the lights." "Steve . . ." Her
mouth trembled and she didn't try to
say anything more.
She walked past him and into the back hall, heard the snick of
the light switch and felt him close behind her as she mounted the
stairs. He passed his own bedroom, went with her to her door and
caught her arm. She was very small beside him.
"I don't know what's eating you," he said in low savage tones,
"but whatever it is, there's no reason for it. Why shouldn't we all have
some good times together?"
Why had she been so idotic down there? She might have
modernized one of her frocks for Saturday evening; and
And yet, as she thought about Anita Vance, she felt pity and
wonder that such a small delicate creature could stand up to the
buffeting she had received. To fall in love and marry, to have one's
beloved husband snatched away after such a brief marriage. No, one
shouldn't grudge anything to Anita; she had suffered too much.
61
Anita, it seemed, had not yet left her room. Tess thought for a
moment, decided it was best to let the other girl form her own routine,
and began to help Mrs. Wills in the bed-rooms. She had seen Anita's
car drawn up beside the garage, a scarlet and chromium convertible of
film-star pro-portions. She had apparently driven it all the way from
Vancouver—no mean feat for one so frail-looking. No wonder she
was all in this morning.
At eleven, Tess gave Mrs. Wills some tea and listened to the
happenings in the Wills family since the woman had last worked at
Garth House. At twelve, she decided to prepare lunch for three, but
first she walked outside to look up at Anita's bedroom. The window,
which had Been latched open about six inches, was now wide, and the
thin girl stood there in a sheer white slip, her arms raised as she
brushed her hair. Tess waved.
"Yes, soon," came the husky little voice. "Is it warm enough for
a sun-frock?"
"Good. I'm getting lunch for a quarter to one. Do you like it hot
or cold?"
She did say, "Do we eat in the kitchen?" But after Tess had
explained that it was only for today, because Mrs. Wills would feel
odd if she had to eat alone, Anita nodded her understanding. "I'd
rather have my lunch in here with you than in the dining-room alone,"
she said. "I just can't bear to be lonesome."
So far, so good. She ate well, drank two cups of coffee and
smoked a couple of cigarettes. She even conversed
62
With Mrs. Wills. Tess felt her own thoughts had been
felt the need of all the family she knew—her brother. From
the way she spoke of him she obviously cared a great deal
for George, and the next step would surely take care of
fine.
"Do you swim?" Tess asked her, as they strolled outside. "Not
very much. The lakes are so cold. I can manage
Larry must be the husband; what a blessing that she could refer
to him so casually. Tess nodded towards the deep blue expanse of
Lake Kenegan. "Last year at this time we had the house full and
fishing enthusiasts used to wade out and stand still for hours. They'd
insist on cooking their catch outdoors most evenings. The women
were just as fanatical as the men."
"He's a dear. I don't know what I'd do without him." She looked
about her. "Not much doing here, is there? Shall we go into town?"
"I'm afraid I can't. Mrs. Wills can only come one day a week and
she may need help. Also I have to make fruit pies and get ready to
cook some beef for dinner. Those three men have colossal appetites."
Anita wrinkled her small nose in distaste. "I can cook, but I
don't really like doing it. At home I had a French-Canadian chef and
he turned out superb dishes—even Larry used to like them, and he
never cared much about food. All he thought about was his plane, his
cars, his yacht . . .and me. In that order."
63
"Only once; I was sick for a week after it." She slanted a
sidelong glance at Tess under her thick black lashes. - "Larry was
only the same age as I. We went mad together, had a tremendous
wedding and settled down in a modern mansion to play as hard as we
could. As playmates we were ideally suited."
"But he did love you very much?" Tess found herself asking.
"I think he did—as much as he could, anyway. He was a rich
man's son, you see, and everything always fell straight into his hands.
By a stroke of luck—through meet-ing an old school friend—I
suddenly -found myself in his set. It's not conceited to say I was more
attractive than
the other girls he knew—I just was. He fell, and the rest was
easy." She sighed, but without gloom. "You don't know how it felt—
marrying a man who could give me so so much. Old George had
always done his best for me, but he was only a geologist with a good
salary."
"Wasn't it true?"
"True?" Anita pondered, her glance on the Douglas firs in the
distance, her mouth still smiling. "It was true at the beginning, but not
for long. I hated being poor."
Anita gave a hoarse little laugh. "Not as poor as you seem to be,
but penniless compared with the people I wanted to know. Canadians
haven't the same upper class that you have in England, an exalted
section who can wear any old thing because they're who they are. To
enter the best circles here you have to have an air and expensive
clothes. I had the air, but very few clothes, because those
64
George." She lifted her slender shoulders and added, "I've had a
surfeit of the young set. Next time I marry I'll find someone older and
more exciting—because money won't matter this time, you see. I have
oceans of it."
That's how easy it is, thought Tess resignedly; for the Anitas of
this world, anyway. She nodded towards the visible tip of the scarlet
convertible. "That's a snappy roadster you came in. All that brand-
new power would scare the daylights out of me."
"She does go," said Anita contentedly. "I did an
average of eighty all the way from Vancouver."
"You'll have to be careful on the gravel roads."
"I can take any kind of road," Anita answered. "Larry used to
say I was a better driver than he was. I think
I'll take a look at the town in daylight. Anyone I can call on for
you?"
"I collected my supplies this morning, thanks."
"I mean friends."
"I don't have any friends in Pelton."
This really gave Anita pause. She stared with those yellow-
brown eyes which were so out of keeping with the
rest of her coloring. "None at all? Do you get cosy with the
farming types?"
"There's just one family. You can't make friends here unless you
belong to the clubs. I haven't time for them."
"Golly, you are a hayseed. Well, don't expect me to
At five o'clock, when she took Mrs. Wills back to town, Anita
had not returned, but when Tess got back to Garth House at five-thirty
the car was there, and Anita in her room. Tess went ahead with the
preparations for dinner, and she pushed the big table into the centre of
the dining-room. The six smaller tables and several chairs she carried
outside into a shed. For a moment she wondered whether to substitute
mats for the tablecloth and place candles
Tess pulled the soup kettle to one side on the stove. She didn't
know what to think, how to act. Had it been a
|> ..little afraid of life and was genuinely and desperately in I'
need of security and love?
| dinner."
|- She didn't sound the gong, didn't do anything. She merely I."
Stood staring through the kitchen window at the distant
S, trees and wondering how many days it would take for I Steve
and George to exchange positions, for Steve to do
fe^urances.
f •
fe
67
CHAPTER FOUR
BY Saturday, the situation seemed to have ironed itself out. In
the morning Steve went off to the site for a couple of hours, but
George and Roland stayed at the lake and took Anita for a short tour
of inspection in the canoe. All five had lunch outdoors, and then it-
was Steve's turn to initiate the young woman into the mysteries of the
woods. Roland decided to go out to the country club that evening, and
when Tess declined his invitation he said he thought he'd rustle up
someone else; he'd met a family in town. He went off in George's car,
and Tess
was left lying in the hazy sunshine with George smoking his
pipe at her side.
of the man who sat staring at the lake. No way at all of telling
what he was thinking about. He must have realized he was being
watched, for suddenly he looked down. at her and smiled.
"Feel rested?"
Did she? Was it liking, the heat he could bring to her throat, the
sting to her eyes? She shook her head. "He's
68
"And when she did, he promptly got rid of it. I don't think any
woman will ever really get through to him again. He sort of ...
forestalls that kind of intimacy."
' might have before you've spoken them. It's his way of
keeping a woman at a distance. Very effective."
. sharing a home?"
; head slightly away from her. "I don't look ahead very »-far.
Anita's young and she needs a man more than most ^ girls. Some time
she'll marry again."
;• "And what will you do?" she asked, apparently idly. I "Take a
mate yourself?"
I,. "No, I don't think so," he said a little flatly. "I may be £;/forty
by then."
|v And a woman doesn't wait for ever, she finished for l.him, in
her thoughts. What a self-sacrificing type he was, |j.And what a fool;
rather a dear, but still a fool. Anita
Since then," he sighed, "I haven't known her so well. I'm just
dogged old George, someone to turn to when she's sad."
"But you're not her parent, George. And anyway, once a girl has
married and had a home of her own she's independent to some extent.
It may be natural for her to want you now, for a while, but in the
nature of things
it can't go on. You two are so different, you want such different
things from life."
"It'll even out, I dare say. I certainly shan't have any inclination
to think about my own life till she peps up." He pulled a blade of
tough grass and stripped it slowly. "I'm hoping this place will help her
to sleep better and get an appetite. It's a great thing that she's taken to
Steve. A woman must find him a bracing personality, especially when
he's interested in her."
. Too bracing, Tess thought; the sort of man it was better to deal
with as seldom as possible. Anita was wel-come to her ramble
"through the forest with him;' if he tried that dangerous, masterful
stuff she would know what to do. Steve in that mood made Tess feel
weak and somehow fed-up.
hot during the day and cold enough for a fire at night.
70
not much wind the autumn colors last several weeks. It's
magnifiicent."
"Tell me about the mine," she said. "Have you cleared the old
working?"
He explained, smilingly, kept up on his elbow and looked down
at the perfect summer tan of her face, a honeyed, luminous hue that
seemed to be the glow of gold from. beneath the skin. Large blue
eyes, set wide apart,
^ brilliant dark amber in the odd light, and her hair stood ;'
out and fell to her shoulders in a series of dark ripples.
I ^
that Anita had eaten almost nothing today or yesterday, that the
lunch of ham and eggs on that first day had been her only solid fare
since she had come to Garth House. What a queer girl she was.
Now Anita Jaughed mischievously. "Don't straighten up so
quickly, George dear! We saw you—didn't we, Steve? Looking into
her eyes as if you were both twenty!"
Tess sat up and said dryly, "We were talking about the mine.
Enjoy the timber?"
"I loved it, but I'm tired now. Thank you, Steve," as he dropped
his jacket where she could rest on it. "I do wish I didn't tire so easily."
"You stay here," Steve said. "I'll get some tea and bring it down.
Coming, Tess?"
"Oh, is it my turn for the privilege?" Tess let him pull her to her
feet. "Stay with Anita, George. I shan't be long." '
It wasn't far to the house but a bit of a climb. Tess took care not
to walk too close to Steve because, for some reason, she didn't want
his automatic assistance. They were inside the kitchen when he asked:
"Why the crack about it being your turn for the privilege? By the
look of things, George didn't neglect you."
"Dam my sense of humor," she commented, as she found a
couple of trays and plastic cloths to fit them. "I had a very restful time
with George."
"I wonder if he found it restful?" He dropped some more wood
on to the flames and set a kettle over them. "What were you aiming
at—taking his mind from distant troubles?"
"I don't like." He stood back from the fire and rested on the arm
of a Windsor chair. "What's happening to you lately?"
"To me? I'm still Tess, the girl at Garth House. I don't change."
"The deuce you don't," he said tersely. "A week ago you were
just a happy, simple girl, and today you're as edgy
72
"I hope you realized at the same time that it's not your business."
"Cut that out," he said sharply. "I'm not going to fight with you;
I'm genuinely disturbed about you."
"That wouldn't solve anything. I'm not sure that you'd be able to
handle Kain. It's your pigheaded refusal to go in for social life than I
can't understand. I know that partly it's the lack of cash, but there's
something else."
"Something very elementary," she said. "When I first came to
Kenegan T was only sixteen and very shy of the sophisticated high-'=
•'-• iol element in Pelton, I spent all my spare time helping my father
to improve this place, and after he'd gone, I had to put in a good many
hours each day on running it with my mother- Once or twice I've been
asked to join a sports group or a cultural society, and there was a
young man who used to sit and gaze wistfully at me till the night
when he collected enough courage to ask me to a party. But by then,
though I was no longer so painfully shy, I was so placed that I
couldn't
-leave my mother."
"And what does that make you now?" he demanded. "You look
fifteen and talk about twenty-five!"
Her jaw stiffened and she kept her glance on the scones she was
buttering. "You can't ieave things alon, can you? Occasionally I'm
awfully sorry I listened to you that first day you came to Kenegan,
and I find myself wishing you'd
73
found the place empty and shuttered. Then you could have made
your offer through the proper channels and we needn't have known
each other."
She made a valiant effort to match his mood. "You may think
so, if it boosts your ego. Actually, I feel kinder
misconstrue."
disarm me entirely."
"Not a bit."
But he hunched back only a few inches, so that Tess had to
squeeze against his side as she filled the teapot. She felt his hand
finperir.s the leather be!t at her waist, steeled herself to ignore it. She
turned to reach over and place the teapot on the table and fe'lt him
closer, his smile nar-row and derisive. He took the pot from her hand
and
as well."
Tess somehow got away from him, drew a breath that felt as if it
had sharp corners, and opened the fridge. She heard him walk across
the room, coine back and place the scone and cake dishes on the
larger tray with the china. As he placed the mil^ jug and teapot on the
small tray her hands shook. But a fleeting glance upward showed
74
As they set out the things on (he grass, Tess momen-tarily met
Steve's cold, sarcastic glance. Then she set her teeth and poured tea.
That first night he had said he would never want love and kisses from
her; well, it was even truer now, but she didn't care. He could take a
running jump in the lake.
About half an hour later, when the sun had gone behind the
lavender hills and clouds brought a coolness to the lakeside, they
repacked the trays. Anita drew her gay wool jacket closer about her.
She looked small and pensive.
"Dinner at the country club," Steve put in. "We'll take both the
girls."
"A good idea. We'll also find out what kind of woman Kain has
picked up in Pelton. Maybe, he'll dance with you
> after all this evening, Tess."
"Tess won't want to go with us," said Anita. "She'd rather go to
bed early with a book, wouldn't you, Tess?"
; 75
it."
"Good for you," drawled Steve. "Something has put your back
up, young Tess. Attagirl!"
She would cheerfully have shot the tea-leaves over him, bu.f
instead she put the teapot on the tray George carried and left Steve to
bring the rest of the things. .
Inside the house they split up. Tess remained below while Anita
scented up the bathroom and the men dressed in their own rooms. It
never took Tess long to get ready, and tonight, especially, she did not
want to waste time yearning over her two or three frocks. She would
wear the last new one, a fullskirted green print which had a bow at the
throat. And seeing that rain was imminent it wouldn't matter that she
didn't possess a stole or an evening jacket. She would need a
waterproof.
After she had put away the tea-things she thought how good it
was not to have to rush about preparing the dinner; it excited her a
Viltte to think that she was gomg out to the club in a foursome.
Dancing? Well, it wasn't so
76
She was in the hall when a car drew up outside, and she turned
at once towards the front entrance. For a moment she stared at the
familiar, modern but much worn station wagon; and then it flashed
across her mind that during
He came up the steps two at a time, stopped just inside (he main
lounge and gave her a pale, obstinate smile.
Dick was not much above ^average height, but he had a young
man's strong-frame,'a rather belligerent jaw and
"Why, hallo!" she exclaimed. "I got to thinking you were never
coming back."
"Sure you didn't get to hoping it?" he asked, not very pleasantly.
"I expected to find you at our place, when I returned this afternoon,
instead of which the house was deserted and locked up."
| you were out, and we had to get going that same afternoon.
use his car and I was to return by plane and train; Dad thought
he'd bring one of his realtives back, to share the driving and give them
a holiday. When he got there things were as bad as they could be—in
the business, that is. I've never seen my father so steamed up, and
suddenly, that night, he collapsed with a heart attack."
"He had to rest for a few days and then have the usual tests. The
result was that he had to be. taken to a clinic where he must rest for a
month, almost without moving. After that it may be two or three more
months before he's right—if he ever is."
"Dick, you poor thing." She slipped a hand through his arm and
drew him to the couch. "I'd no idea you were going through this. How
does your father feel, in himself?"
"He's resigned—has to be. Fortunately he has a sister in Calgary
who will visit him regularly. But you caa see where it puts me." He
sat forward with his arms along his knees. "The only bright spot in
coming back was that you'd be at. Blue Valley to talk things over
with. And then when I got there . . ."
She touched the hand nearest her, looked into his face. "I know,
and I'm terribly sorry. If I'd had an inkling of what you might be
suffering I'd have been over there
to meet you."
78
"I'd hardly want George in that position, but to tell him I'm sorry
to let him down."
"Don't think a thing about it." A slight interest dawned in her.
"You say this friend who needs you is a man?"
"What is he like?"
Tess couldn't suppress the irony in her voice when she replied,
"Too young for you, in your present mood. Have a "good time."
She went into her own room and hastily changed her grubby
white shirt for the turquoise one and her jeans for a black skirt. Then
she ran downstairs and out to the Nielands' all-purpose wagon. She
was no sooner seated than Dick set the vehicle moving.
The rain had begun, mistily, and daylight was almost gone.
From the hill a few of the lights of Pelton were normally visible in the
far distance, but tonight there was nothing but a darkening grey haze.
It wasn't cold, but the world looked sad.
"Is there much food in the house?" she asked brightly. "Some
stuff in the fridge," he said, "and the foreman
"But you mustn't feel like that," she said gently. "Your father is
in good hands; while he rests he can't come to any harm at all. I know
the ranch is going to be a big
79
my life."
"But, Dick, you've never relied on me like that before. How was
I to know you'd be in a state?"
more.
"We won't talk much till you've had something to eat and
relaxed a bit. You're probably overtired."
They went to the kitchen, and he put a match to the stove fire
which Mrs. Lesley had left ready. But at Blue Valley one did not have
to rely solely upon the wood stove; there was a generator large
enough to run a fridge and several cooking appliances as well as the
lights. Tess found eggs and cooking oil, a small jar of mushrooms for
omelette filling, a can of chicken soup. She cut bread'for toast,
switched on the frying-pan and coated the inside
of it with oil. So much for the evening away from her own
kitchen, she thought wryly; this old-fashioned and yet
They ate at the kitchen table, took their coffee into the fair-
sized, chintzy sitting-room which in daylight always seemed to be
part of the vast outdoors. From its windows Tess had often watched
the dark blobs of distant cattle, the pale grass blowing, the cantering
cowboys as -they returned from driving sections of the cattle to water.
Here' at Blue Valley one always got an impression of space and
distance, of merciless sun in high summer and bitter winds in winter.
It was the sort of ranch that an owner could
feel seeping into his bones while the outsider was conscious
only of blinding, illimitable distance.
ready for them. For the first time he ... he talked about his will.
It's a rather peculiar one—he made it when I
j was twenty-one and-feels it shouldn't be altered." Looking |
down at his coffee cup, he shook his head. "I couldn't
| talk to him about such things, but he wanted me to know,
| so that . ^ . so that I can plan. If ... anything happens J to him
I'm to share this place with my eldest cousin,
I face lifted, and Tess saw that he was rather white about J the
mouth. "I'm just not cut out to face this kind of
^ thing."
I. "You needn't face it yet. You don't have to swallow
t: it whole, Dick, and if your father's" careful you may soon j
be back where you were before you left for Calgary."
I none of it. I won't live here with a man who was chosen I
simply because he's a cattleman. I can hire one, if neces-j.sary. The
foreman here is pretty good, if it comes to that.
| The will is a reflection on me; don't you see that?"
I' "It isn't, Dick. Your father thinks too much of you to
Jhis chair. "No, I don't think he is," he said, exhaustion |in his
tones, "but he's opened my eyes. I always thought
|he was satisfied with the work I did here, that he knew
I- 81
Tess came and sat down close to him, smiled as she said, "You
aren't thinking straight, Dick. Be honest with yourself. Supposing you
were suddenly left as sole owner of the ranch. What would you do?"
Tess felt her blood cooling, a distaste within her. "That might be
a way out of it," she said evenly, "but it's not too well conceived, is it?
How did you think I'd react?"
us for a while. While I was there I kept thinking of you, and I've
told you about the ghastly sense of let-down when I got back this
afternoon to an empty house. I've
82
liked any other girl; I used to keep away from JSfhem. But
you're different. You're sweet and you under-stand me. In a way
you're much stronger than I am, and |even though you're not a
ranching type you'd have enough
j strength and loyalty to the family—if you entered it— Jto help
me to keep things going. I know it must look as
|"A proposal just now is in bad taste, to say the least, and j it
would be best for both of us if you forgot it."
: ried when he died, he'd already have had my wife living here
and would know her v/ell." He stood up suddenly. "I can accept that
when I was younger he'd make the stipulation about my cousin
sharing Blue Valley for a certain number of years. But I'm twenty-six
now, and he
"No, I realize that," she said quietly. "You'll have to try seeing it
from your father's angle. If I were you, I'd do my utmost not to think
about it at all for a couple of days. You need sleep,"
He dropped down in front of her, looking haggard
.and very young. He gripped her wrists and his head went down
into her lap. For a suffocating second Tess was on the point of
springing up and rushing away. Then she
83
felt the torment in him, the hurt of discovering his father did not
trust him, his need to cling to something unshake-able, at least for a
time. He had been right when he said he wasn't constructed to face
such a situation.
Dick had always been serious, a little intense; his trou-ble had
been that his looks belied his character. Physically he was an ordinary
young Canadian of Scottish blood, but mentally he was far from wide
spaces and grand mount-ains. He read a good deal, collected old
manuscripts and maps, knew all about the old capitals of Europe and
longed to visit them. Sometimes he thought he would like to write,
and at others he saw himself loose in Spain
She took one of her hands from his grasp, touched his crisp,
colorless hair. "Let's be sane, Dick. Give the whole thing time to
settle. You haven't asked me about my
guests at Garth House."
Heavily, he- got up and lowered himself into a chair. "I'm not
very interested in them," he said, "but I'd have told you, sooner or
later, that my father has put the
sale of the place into my hands. I'm going to advertise it for you,
in several big towns."
"I don't think that will be necessary," she said, relieved that he
had accepted the change of topic. "I've had an offer, a very good one.
That's the reason I took on the three men who are staying there."
"Just three men?" he asked, frowning.
"And (he sister of one of them. Did you know there's a new
silver mining project at North Tucket?"
"I'd heard about it. A big company sent a team to test old
prospectors' workings and 'North Tucket gave good
results. Is that where your guests are geting dug in?" She
nodded. "Garth House is much nearer to the site
"No," she said in level tones. "It's an offer which I'm at liberty to
refuse, and he frankly told me all the details himself. In fact, he
advised me to hang on to the place and cash in, but I had to admit that
Mother needs money. So he said he'd pay what we're asking—but for
only a half-share in the property—just as a speculation. It seems to me
that if we can send Mother the money she's hoping for, and still retain
an interest in Garth House, we're not on to a bad thing. I'm sure your
father would have
• agreed to it."
"My father's not in this now. I actually have a letter from him to
his lawyer in Pelton, stating that the sale of Garth House has to be at
my discretion, though he'll sign for your mother when the time
comes." Bitterly, he tacked on, "He'd probably have put my cousin in
charge of that, too, if he hadn't had confidence in you."
j~ 85
At about ten-thirty she made some tea, but half an hour later
when she said it was time to leave, Dick
demurred.
"I'm going to feel like (he devil when I'm alone again," he said.
"If the old girl were here it might help a little, but this big house . . .
deserted ... I couldn't stand it.
Not quite, she thought. "If you really feel benighted out
here, why don't you come over to Garth House for the night?"
she suggested. "There are still four empty bed-
rooms."
"No." He looked tightened up. "Just stay with me a
little longer.
Well, a few times lately Tess herself had felt like that. She
twiddled the radio knobs, and somehow got through another hour.
Finally he went outside with her and they started away in the wagon.
He drove slowly, yet had little to say. Tess took a quick peep at her
w.atch and saw that it was five minutes to one. Heavens, if she should
meet them now . . . with Dick there!
But as they neared Garth House she saw that it was in total
darkness. She put urgent fingers on Dick's arm. "Drop me here, Dick.
I have my keys; I'll go in the back
way."
She kept panic from her tones. "Go back home, take an aspirin
and go to bed. I'll see you on Monday evening —about eight. Good
night, Dick."
He muttered something and slipped back ino the car. Tess flitted
down from the road on to the drive, took the side path to the back
door. She felt in her skirt pocket for her keys, found them and inserted
the correct one into the lock. It turned, but the door would not yield.
CHAPTER FIVE
She tiptoed along the stoep and back again, decided that
whatever happened, she would not face those men tonight. Roland
slept at the back, his room was just above the kitchen, but even if she
succeeded in rousing him he might stumble about in the corridor and
waken the others. Probably they weren't even asleep yet. Per-haps . . .
perhaps Steve was up there in the dark, smoking a cigarette near the
window and .thinking about his precious mine ... or about Anita.
It wasn't till she leaned back against (he wall that Tess realized
she was spent. There had been that scene with Steve in the kitchen,
the hear-twisting pain afterwards, the sudden effort of accepting the
invitation to the club. Then Dick's arrival, .and Anita's indifference
and sly allusions. And the three or four hours over at Blue Valley had
demanded more nervous energy than she had really had to spare. She
badly needed her bed. Yet how to get there?
As she stepped out again into the rain she became aware that her
shoulders were wet, her shoes squelching. It was cooler too, a wee bit
raw. At the corner of the house she lookd up at her balcony. Well,
why not? There was a tow-
' rope in the barn, and she ought to be able to throw the
but strong; her father had replaced the old ones only a
couple of years ago, and the top bar was no more than
(he tan estate car and collected the coil of rope. Under the
balcony, she loosened the coil, found the looped end and took her
stand. She threw, missed, and threw again. I made hardly any sound,
thank heaven, and some time it was bound to loop over the balcony
handrail. She musn't be flurried. Just try again, and again . . .
patiently.
The rope caught, and swung. She paid out and the loop came
down, looking ghoulish in the grey darkness. She was as good as in
her room already! But that thought may have been her undoing. She
grabbed the loop, caught it together with the rope and at once began
to haul herself up. Her hands were cold and damp, the bunch of rope
too clumsy for them. One end of the rope slipped, she snatched at it
and missed, and the next second was sprawling on the muddy grass.
In no time she was up on her feet, had yanked the rope into an
armful and disappeared into the barn. She couldn't see much, but there
was no sound from the house, none at all.
She stood there for fully five minutes, the rope at her feet. Then,
dispiritedly, she kicked it back into the corner and got into the old
Buick. It wasn't very comfortable, but she couldn't risk leaving traces
in the estate car. She leaned back against the car window with her arm
across the wheel. Her neck hurt where she had ricked it in (he fall,
and she was so tired that the wet blouse made her shiver. Well, she
could rest here for a few hours. The others wouldn't get up so early
tomorrow because it was Sunday—it was already Sunday, she
reflected drearily. Anyway, she wasn't likely to sleep heavily.
Whoever ap-peared first in the morning would leave the door wide
and take a walk. With luck, she would be able to slip indoors and up
to her room without being seen. Even
bare forearm was caked with mud, her leg as well, she S»ught.
If she hadn't been so tired the situation might have been funny, in
spite of the physical pain.
I 89
In the kitchen the stove fire already burned and a breakfast cloth
had been arranged on the table with a cruet in the centre. Nothing
else. Tess washed her forearm in the scullery and beat some of the
mud from her skirt. She set out cups and saucers, plates and cutlery,
put a
90
"Hi," she answered, as succinctly.
He opened a thick week-end newspaper, leaned back against the
wall near the table, reading. As she placed sugar and grapefruit on the
table she could smell his after-shaving lotion. This morning he had a
clean-cut, economical look; Tess felt as if she herself looked slightly
lopsided and completely neutral.
Nothing was said till George appeared, well shaved, well
brushed and half smiling.
"Good morning, Tess," he greeted her. "Shall I be in
the way if I stay here?"
"The waffles are ready—you can get started." Steve folded the
paper and dropped it on to a chair,
pulled out her chair at the table. She shook her head, steeled
herself against wincing from the pain in the curve
of her neck.
"I'll just have some grapefruit, in a minute. Please go
ahead."
He did not insist, but took his own place at the table and helped
himself to waffles and maple syrup. Tess turned the kidneys and
bacon, broke eggs into the pan with them and separated two of the
plates which were warming. She made coffee for the men and tea for
herself. Roland arrived, winked at her and sat down. She lifted bacon
and kidneys from the pan to make room for more. No one expected
Anita to come down; it was doubtful whether she ever would appear
below stairs before ten o'clock. Then she would don an apron and
walk about with a flower or two in her hand, looking busy. Tess didn't
really care; it just happened that everything this morning made her
sick.
Roland, who never ate cereal or waffles, was ready to eat the
main course with the others. Steve poured the coffe, Tess the tea, and
she started on her grapefruit. Roland was eating slowly this morning.
"Too much hooch last night," he explained. "I got myself invited
to a card party."
"The girl stand you up?" asked George.
"I was too late—one of these timber types got in first— and I
never quarrel with lumberjacks! So her brothers
felt sorry for me and took me along to this card-playing jag. Oh,
boy, was I fleeced!"
91
"Cockeyed, too?"
"Not quite. I had enough about me to get out and come home at
about eleven-thirty. None of you were in then and the doors were
locked, but the kitchen vent window was open and I reached in and
opened the lower one."
"I didn't even hear you," Roland said. "Too shot, I guess." He
pushed his plate aside, pulled his coffee cup nearer. "What kept you
out till midnight?"
It was George again who replied. "We went over to the country
club. It's a pleasant place and they seem very decent people."
Steve spoke for the first time, very coolly. "Her young man
came home, so she ran out on us. Enjoy yourself, little one?"
"Yes, thanks."
Ignoring the sarcasm, she said, "Dick didn't feel like fun. His
father has been taken seriously ill, and he's sud-denly loaded with the
responsibility for the ranch. I'm
sorry I couldn't go with you last night, bu- Dick's an old
just a rick of the neck, but quie a bad wrench. Fortunately, she
was tough enough to survive the wet blouse and shoes without harm,
but she did feel most peculiar.
George helped to clear the table and he dried the dishes. Tess
went upstairs and tidied the bedrooms. In her own room she decided
to take an aspirin, and wanly she recal-led advising Dick last night to
do the same. She had swallowed the tablet and was calculating
whether she
92
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93
one's shoe had. dug into the grass and slid about a couple of feet.
Could have been your shoe."
"Yes. Yes, it was." She hadn't even remembered the pencil was
in her skirt pocket. "You can't hurry on wet grass."
His hands were back in his pockets and he stood with his feet
slightly apart and his shoulders squared, -as if examining and judging
her. Then suddenly; "You can't turn your head, can you?"
She forced a smile. "Not easily. I must have jerked the neck
muscle slightly when I fell."
"Pretty well. I may have a bruise or two. Is that why 'you came
up—to return my pencil?"
"No, I scented a mystery. It wasn't I who gummed up the
evening out at the club, so why should you go aloof on me? Still fed
up about that kiss?"
"You have, young Tess, but you needn't any more. If I ever kiss
you again it'll be because you've asked me to."
"Then it won't happen," she said. Perhaps because she was too
tired to choose her words, she asked, "Does Anita like your
experimental ways? Or are you keeping decently distant till you
receive an invitation?"
The grey eyes glinted dangerously, but all he said .was, "Sit
down. I'll be right back."
Tess teetered, and sat down on the side of the bed. He came
back unscrewing the cap of a large yellow tube, sat
beside her.
"I'll take that last remark of yours as an outlet for the pain of a
stiff neck," he commented as he massaged. "For
94
la woodsy type you certainly pack a smart punch. I'll | bet you
never use them against Dickie-boy."
I "Maybe I don't have to."
| "What's so different about me?"
"I shouldn't bank on that. About fifteen minutes ago they almost
controlled me. I was so mad that I was ready to smash this door in if
I'd found it locked."
She was still and silent;, noticed that his fingers had almost
ceased to move. At last she asked quietly "Mad with me? What have I
done?"
"So you did—in the dark and in the raia." In clipped accents he
demanded, "What did you use it for?"
"It could and did. You spent the night- in the car!"
Tess stood up. She was pale, and the life seemed very close to
the clear and sensitive satin of her skin. A p2
Ser 1^- ^oat and the blue vein at her te"Ple 2 t'T glrllshand
v"l°erable. The whites of her eyeS
were the blue of perfect health, but there was tiredness
95
in the dark droop of her lids as she averted her head from
him.
"That's a very clever deduction," she said.
"It's not clever, it was obvious. There was no one about when I
came down this morning, and then suddenly you were in the kitchen,
looking as if you'd had a thick night. You ate only a spoonful of
grapefruit for breakfast, and then admitted you'd spent the evening
with young Nieland, because he needed you." He paused, then asked
deliberately, "Just how much did he demand of you, little one?"
"Oh, stop it," she said unsteadily. "I kept quiet about it because
1 knew no one would undersand why I should stay over at Blue
Valley, alone with Dick, for so many hours.
I didn't feel like explaining last night, and I don't this morning,
but there was absolutely no harm in it. Dick felt horrible and I stayed
with him as long as I could. I knew the club closed at one and thought
that was when you'd leave. I'm afraid I'd forgotten that Anita tires
quickly."
"When I got here the place was locked and bolted; I couldn't get
in."
"There's the visitors' bell at the front door!"
"I ... couldn't rouse everyone. You're guests here. I 1 thought of
tossing pebbles at someone's window, but even |
open, and got the rope. That was how you fell—from the ropel"
"You know it all now," she said thinly. "Satisfied?" "Satisfied!
This is your home; you've more right to
enter this place at any time you like than any of us! If you
weren't already hurt enough I'd shake the life out of you." He stalked
violently across the room and back again. "What time did you get
here?"
"About one."
"I wasn't asleep then, You might have guessed that one of us
would still be awake."
96
ger head bent, her wide brow pale. She looked young and
jdefenceless, still possessed of the awkward and appealing gCharm of
adolescence. Something went taut in his jaw
jcomb through her hair and used a lipstick. She preceded ^him
from the room, went down the stairs and out to the ibara at his side.
The sun was watery but gathering
.side ot the shed, and the sight of it made her look upwards
^ Anita's window. Her heart turned. Anita was
standing ,there in a slinky dark wrap, the smoky hair thick and
.curly about the small pale face. And the look on Sat
•i3ce. , . ,
^"HO^S the ?e<:k?" steve asked' as ^ swu^ away
from the gravel road which led up towards Blue Vallev and the
mountains, and took the track through the pines
which encircled the lake. . p
"At your age, never is a long time. Do you ever come along this
road?"
Tess looked through the trees they were passing, glimpsed the
blue and silver of the lake. "It must be more than a year since I last
came this way. These days, wher-ever I go leads somewhere; this road
is here just. for pleasure and I haven't had time for it. I like these
wilder parts of the lake, though, don't you?"
"About four years ago. The old couple still live m their
|| "If you'd married that girl you wanted you could have
passed it on to her."
| He laughed. "So did I, honey. Maybe all I was cured |of was
wanting that particular girl."
ICanadian."
| "To someone like Roland?"
gsvill you? Of all the women Kain has known you're about |the
only one who could really pin him down, if you
twanted to. And do you know why? Because you haven't faiade
a single play for him."
| "I don't care for detached discussions like this. You |alk as if
there's no such thing as love. How do you know Tm not secretly
falling in love with Roland?"
What Steve said might have been true a few weeks ago. It wasn't
true now, though she couldn't tell him that. She merely shook her
head, shrugged and pointed down to a clearing at the lakeside. "May
be stop for a bit?"
100
y "I brought Anita across in your canoe. It's about a mile
IJ_ A faint breeze blew through the trees and she felt cool
j|he took Anita for a drive or out in the canoe. Still, some jjof the
magic had gone from (he morning.
||_ "Go to sleep, if you want to," he said. "We've an hour
^evening."
1. "We can do without cooking, for one day. Stop tying
ggyourself in knot's."
gj. Tess half closed her eyes but stared at the lake. It
jUooked a long, long way to the dark green of the far g:bank,
but somewhere over there stood Garth House and j-its gradual rocky
slope to the water. Oddly, in that moment phe knew an unmistakable
reluctance to return home. If s[sbe could drive away from Lake
Kenegan . . . with Steve
j.. . . but that was impossible. You couldn't get into a car
101
down at the other end of the lake. They imported two couples
several years ago and the families have wandered up and down the
lakeside. They're fed honey to keep them in this district. Once, with
my father, I did see one of
the older bears, but this is the first time I'ce come across the
babies. Weren't they delicious!"
Steve laughed. "Is that true, or are you being feline? We'll go
down there right now for a drink, and if you've
been kidding me . . ."
He eit it tail off and started the car. For a panicky moment she
thought of her slacks; and then it was no use thinking about them, for
they were back on the road and already covering the seven or eight
miles to the lower
end of the lake.
Tess had never entered the Lake Kenegan Hotel ground from
this angle; in fact, she had visited the place only
once, on her eighteenth birthday, and the rest she had learned
from hearsay. But substantially, what she had told Steve was true. The
waitresses not only wore Indian dress but they had black hair parted
in the middle with long black braids swinging and they wore tawny
make-up. The outdoor tables were fashioned from huge logs, but the
chairs were modern and gay. Horses browsed on the hill-
102
i-cream.
Steve paid a dollar and they entered the main tepee to amine the
masks and woodcraft, the memento totem •les, the spear heads. He
came out smiling and shakin" i head.
|1 "Toughie, eh?" He took her arm to lead her back to |the car. "I
don't quite get you, you know. You remind
I me of a Mountie I used to be matey with. He went three days
without food while he ruthlessly hunted a couple of wanted men and
looked no different after it, but one day
g.he accidentally hit a hound with his car, and it took him j
weeks to get over it. He used to sweat if a dog so much
jas ran beside his car on the sidewalk."
I- "He has "y sympathy. I once grazed a tree with the |Buick to
avoid a jack-rabbit!"
103
"There's a lorry they can use. Those who normally live in the
Pelton district go home and the others take in a movie or a game of
pool. The older hands stay in camp and save their money. You see,
when the mine really gets into production we'll build a township for
the workers and their families; it's already planned. There'll be
nothing to prevent the men from buying their own homes through the
company."
She answered quietly, "I'm far more grown up than you think.
Maybe I'm a little missing on the romantic side, but . . ."
"We'll take care of that too," he said, his smile narrow-eyed. "By
the time we three men are ready to move quar-ters you won't know
yourself."
"That sounds like a threat."
"It's meant like one. Do you feel better now?"
"Oh, heaps," she said gratefully. "It was awfully good of you to
take me out for (he morning, Steve."
"Don't adopt the humble tone with me!"
"I'm not. I mean it. Your brutal approach was just right."
104
Quickly, before he could come round, Tess got out of the estate
car and said brightly:
"It's twenty minutes to one; I must skate. Thanks again, Steve."
And she walked as fast as she could into
the house.
Whatever tumult had started within her receded the moment she
reached the kitchen. For Anita was there,
in a crisp green frock with a frilly white apron over it, and the
room smelled savory and warm. Anita's face had the excited girlish
expression, her cheeks for one were pink. Only her eyes were hard,
but to anyone except Tess they would have looked a brilliant,
anticipatory amber.
"Hi, girlie," said Anita, as she ladled a fine brown soup into the
tureen. "Thought I'd surprise you. Today you have lunch a 1'Anita,
something special."
"Well, what do you know!" Tess went to the stove. "It smells
marvellous, Anita."
"Keep away, if you don't mind," with a tightish smile. "I'm
claiming all the credit."
"I should jolly well think so. I'll lay the table."
"It's already done—in the dining room. You don't have to do a
thing except wait for me to dish up."
"But, Anita . . ."
The small dark girl swung about, faced Tess like a vindictive
and pretty little animal. "You keep out of it. You stole Steve for the
morning, and now let me have my moment! Go and sit with the men.
And don't try to serve anything during lunchtime!"
"But I can't let you serve as well as cook."
"If you don't do as—I-ask," said Anita from between her small
white teeth, "I'll tell them all what I saw this morning when I peeped
round the edge of your door. Yes, I was there! I heard Steve's voice
and was curious; I saw him sitting behind your bare shoulders. . . ."
"I wish you'd broken it!" The white teeth snapped again. "Now
get out—or I'll make something of it."
It was unreal. Tess stood back and watched for a moment, saw
Anita hack savagely at a loaf; never for a second had it occurred to
her that Anita Vance could feel so strongly about Steve Fenner, and
even now it was
105
difficult to take it in. And yet there was something fiendish in
the swift motions of those fragile wrists, the jangling of the bracelet
packed with gold charms.
She turned and went into the small cloakroom under the stairs,
washed her hands and looked into the mirror above the basin. But it
wasn't forget-me-not blue eyes that she saw. It was the yellowish
ones, staring hate down from a bedroom window, staring still more
hate across the kitchen of Garth House.
She sounded the gong, directed the three men into the dining
room. "We're lucky," she said clearly, as Anita brought the platter of
bread to the table. "I ran out on you this morning and intended to dish
up something cold. But Anita's been working while I idled. She's
turned out
a good hot lunch for us and insists on serving it herself. Will you
sit down?"
The worst task was seating herself. She got down into her chair
and clenched her fists on her knees. The men bravo'd Anita as she
brought in the soup. Steve-served it and said it smelt great. Tess
sipped some and recognized a canned type, good but still canned.
Next came tiny fish balls which the men voted "really tasty". Also
from a can, Tess noted. The fillet steak was genuine
and cooked just right; Anita said, "Filet mignon! I'll bet it's the
first since you men came to Garth House." George said, yes it was,
and she'd made a superb job of it. Steve chaffed her, said that no
woman as small and frail-looking should be able to turn out such a
meal. "Wait till you taste my pie!" came the bright-eyed response.
The pie-case was one which Tess herself had made and left in
the fridge. The filling was the contents of a can of bilberries decorated
with whipped tinned cream. It tasted good, and so it should. The men
were loud in their praise, even of the delicate arrangement of biscuits
and cheese on the usual board.
Tess sat it through and even let George fetch the coffee. She
knew that Anita's tenancy of the kitchen was at an
106
"Steve, I've been wondering about that invitation we had last
night from those Gregory people along the lake. They really meant us
to go there for dinner this evening,
you know."
"Yes," he said, smiling, "I think they did. They were
a darned nice couple."
"It's a good day for it—Sunday and no rain. If we went out it
would make things easier for Tess this evening. Just the three of them
to cater for."
Even then, when he could not really turn Anita down, Tess
felt—or perhaps hoped—he was hesitating. But for some reason he
looked at Tess and seemed to remember something not entirely
pleasant. He hardened slightly, turned the smile once more upon
Anita.
"Silly," said Anita, wrinkling her nose at him. "It's just a garden
thing. Tonight I'll wear something really fetch-ing!"
Tess left the men and began the washing-up. Roland came to
help, nudged Tess as he reached for a drying cloth.
"What a gal, that Anita," he said. "She sure knows her men."
"It was a good lunch," Tess replied guardedly.
"It was a good hunch, too," he returned, giving his wink. "I think
you got her burned up, and she decided to get to work on it. She can
sit back now and let you do all the cooking for the rest of her stay.
One thing she's
sure of—you won't try a filet mignon."
"That's probably true." She glanced at him briefly. "I didn't hear
you shouting praises." .
"I might have, if I hadn't seen through the wench. She made me
empty the bin for her, and it was full of cans."
earth from under you. Whatever happens, don't cross her. She's
been handling George all her life, and a rich young husband for part
of it. There's one thing," he laughed to himself, "if she gets Steve she
may find he's not the easy
meat the others were."
"Why are you suddenly against her?"
"I'm not against her — unless she hurts you. But she doesn't
deceive me, either. I was taken in by the tears that first night, but
since then I've noticed her gradually chang-ing her tactics. Steve had
to pity her as soon as possible. Pity, the text book tells us, is akin to
love, and that gave
her a head start. Since then, she's been strong in mind
and weak in body. Noticed it?"
"You're being mean."
"No, just realistic. I'll tell you another thing. The
reason she eats hardly anything is because she loves being tiny
and terribly appealing. She swallows vitamin
pills by the bucket."
"How do you know all this?"
"I'm the only unbiased observer in this joint," said Roland.
"You're mostly too busy, and you have a bit of
a yen for Steve. . . ."
"That's not true!"
"All right, I'll take your word for it." But it was obvious he
didn't. "You're busy, anyway. George is the woman's brother and
slightly warped by his own problem, and Steve is a bit gone on the
dear little widow, so he
can't see straight, either."
"And you're the. one detached onlooker," she said, a
little thinly.
CHAPTERSIX
NEXT morning it was summer again, but there was just the
faintest chill on the breeze. After the men had left for the site Tess did
her usual chores and set off for town with the laundry. Mrs. Wills
accepted it, recounted the latest exploits of her eldest and promised to
be ready early on Thursday. Tess did some shopping for provisions,
placed a large order for meat which also had to called
It was just after eleven when she got back to Garth House and
met a young woman in green and ginger tweed slacks and a dark
green blouse. A friend of Anita's, it seemed. The two were lounging in
the stoep chairs, chat-ting and enjoying the vast expanse of the lake in
its green 'setting.
Anita looked up at Tess, her smile wide and friendly. "I
wondered where you were, Tess. Would you mind bringing us some
coffee?"
She brought out coffee with a plate of cookies, went back to the
kitchen and set about making a large fruit cake and a shortcake to
which she could add frozen strawberries later on. Her hands were
floury when the front bell rang. She rinsed and dried them, went
through
109
to the stoep. Two other women had arrived, older than the first
and much married. One of them was inspecting her surroundings.
"I've passed this place but never stopped here," Tess heard her
say. "I hadn't any idea there was such 'a beautiful view. I'm so glad
you told us about it, Anita." Then she saw Tess and added, "Bring us
some coffee, my dear. And do you keep cigarettes?"
Again Tess made coffee for two .and served it with cookies.
This time she waited for payment and politely thanked the customer.
If Anita, by her complete dis-regard of the circumstances, was hoping
to annoy and
Anita's guests decided to stay for lunch. Tess told them politely
that she could serve cold ham and salad and strawberry shortcake, and
Anita asked them, in long-suffering tones, whether they would settle
for that. They did, and had the dining-room to themselves. Tess
enjoyed her lunch alone in the kitchen, paging through the maga-zines
and deciding the sort of frock she would like; a figured material that
was mainly gold, she thought, in a semi-evening style. Something
really rather impractical,
for a change.
The customers drifted out and Tess cleared the dining-table and
washed up. The shortcake was gone, so she would have to think up
something else for this evening. The men liked pies and puddings,
seemed to feel let down if she served a trifle or fruit mould. Raisin
roll with butter and sugar; a plain light pudding with hot stewed
plums or maple syrup? No need to decide for a couple
of hours, anyway.
She mowed the small lawn and tidied the beds full of dwarf
dahlias and ragged asters. A couple of the rose bushes were filling
with a new crop of buds, but they needed more attention than she
could give them. Through the gap between the cypress hedge and the
barn she could see Anita's car still in its place, but the other, the.
flashy affair in which the two older women had arrived, had
110
disappeared. Did that mean Anita was now alone? What about
the younger visitor — had Anita picked her up somewhere this
morning? Tess shrugged, and got on with the absorbing task of
tidying the garden.
A car crunched over the gravel drive and she waved to George
as he braked, looked quickly at her watch. Four o'clock; he was home
early. She straightened and crossed the lawn to speak to him, peeled
off the muddy garden gloves.
stuff all day and gone woolly. You've made a neat job
of the garden. Why didn't you leave the mowing for me?"
"The grass wasn't really ready for mowing, but I felt like it. The
borders look smart, don't they? Like some tea?"
"The house is empty. I think she's gone down to the lake with a
friend."
"A friend?"
"A girl of about twenty-six. Anita seems to have met quite a few
people in the district."
"Yes, it was, but the fact of her taking over made you uneasy. I
saw that."
his hands into his pockets. "Fact is, she told me some-thing last
night that's put me in a quandry. You'd already
gone to bed when she came back from that dinner party
with Steve. We three had a drink together and Anita and
I went upstairs before Steve did. She pulled me into her
bedroom and began to cry." Tess didn't help him at
all; she couldn't. So he went on stiffly, "I comforted
her and asked her what was the matter. She told me she'd
never been in love with that boy she married, but that
she's in love now — with Steve, of all men."
Through dry lips, Tess queried, "Why are you tellin
me, George?"
He lifted a shoulder unhappily. "I suppose to you it
seems strange that I should confide in someone as young as you
are, but I had to get another slant on it, and in
spite of your youth you're a wise person. I've had to deal with all
kinds of crises in Anita's life, but never with one like this. I honestly
don't know what to do about it."
"I don't know. I hate talking about the private affairs of another
man, but I do wish I knew what he thinks
about Anita."
"Don't you think that perhaps she knows? Why did she
weep?"
"Any emotional disturbance makes her cry — she does it easily
these days. She said she felt deep inside that he cares for her, but she's
sure he won't say a word for at
least another six months — till she's been free a year — and she
couldn't bear to wait .that long." He gestured un-comfortably. "Apart
from the young husband, whom she chose herself, I've always been
able to get for Anita any-
thing she wanted. So you see how I'm placed."
Anita had we'pt her plea for Steve Fenner, and if he could
possibly manage it, George would get Steve for
her. "It's not quite two weeks since they met," she reminde him a
little shortly. "Can't you tell her firmly that she
must wait?"
112
"I did point that out," he said tiredly. "I'm sure you •understand
me pretty well — I'm so uncomplicated — but
understanding Anita is rather different. She's very sweet,
really, and awfully young for her years, but I'm certain
that in the right environment she'll be happy and whole
and make some man a wonderful wife. She has it in her
to be a great person; it's worldly experience that's lacking."
; He was wrong there, Tess reflected. Anita was mature in
|every way but one; she had never grown up emotionally, land in part
George was to blame. He had dealt with her |troubles and kept her
financially secure, he had apparently |said nothing against her
marrying a rich young man who Shad no job and was mad on sport.
Perhaps he was blam-
|ffig himself for that now, condeming himself for daring HP
hope that through Anita's marriage he might himself
||md happiness with the woman he loved.
|| "I'm afraid I 'can't advise you, George," she said
|them alone together, let him see her as she really is — a I'very
young and innocent person in spite of the way the | world has treated
her."
1 "If you want them to be alone you may have to take
Roland Kain into your confidence."
I' "Kain has to return to head office for a week or two, | maybe
longer. I hesitate to offer myself as your escort,
'but perhaps you'll co-operate with me, for Anita's sake? ljust so
that she knows everything is in her favor."
I Tess pondered, quelled the words that rose to her
'lips and said instead, "Very well, George, but I think lyou
should realize that fundamentally you and I can do
t "That's true." He smiled. "I said you were fortright, ITess, and I
repeat it. I wish one or two other people were |as outspoken."
| Tess did not ask whom he meant; she didn't much care. rut
once more she thought what a fool he was to throw
113
He said, "I'm just a bit past it, Tess. Thanks for listen-ing."
Tess turned with him towards the back door, stopped when he
did, as his sister came running along the path from the lake. Anita
flung an arm about him and kissed his cheek, giggled as she rubbed
lipstick from his skin.
"I don't see why we shouldn't get Tess a new one," her brother
commented.
"The old one is all right for me," Tess told him. "I'm so used to
bailing that I'd be bored in a new canoe! Excuse me."
She went into the kitchen and made tea, then set about preparing
vegetables for dinner. She sang softly, deter-minedly, and thought
exclusively about roast loin of lamb, mint sauce, redcurrent jelly,
vegetables and raisin pudding.
« « «
"Minor ones, because I couldn't get any help. Maybe at the end
of the month I'll be able to get hold of a maid."
114
i She knew what he meant, but ignored it for the moment. jWith
the tow-colored crew-cut and unsmiling face he
115
in here, do we? No one ever uses the far comer of the lounge."
What I haven't yet put into words is the pleasant fact that I'm
making a little money out of my four guests, and it saves my having
to take a job I'd detest and travel backwards and forwards to Blue
Valley." She appealed to Dick. "You'd no. sooner left for Calgary
than things changed. I had the chance of hanging on here till the place
is sold, of taking paying guests and of saving
a little cash. The whole object of keeping Garth House open is
so that my mother will benefit as much as possible. Don't you see
that?"
"Of course I do," said Dick, frowning, "but it's so futile. You've
admitted you can't get help. . . ."
116
I01' sc,r,imp and save- J 1"^ want y0" ^ere. YOIT know that,
"Oh, shut up," she said, and then sighed. "I'm sorry I didn't mean
to be rude. This discussion we arranged
•seemed to have backfired, and all I wanted was to have things
clear. I'm afraid Steve is right. . . ."
.taking advantage of the fact that he's ill." "Dick, how dare you!"
"Don't glower at me, little one. I'm here to help. Seeing that your
friend Dick feels he should be the helper- I'll make a suggestion. If
he'll make the same offer for Garth House that I've made, I'll stand
down."
117
"I wouldn't want Garth House even if I could afford it," said
Dick. "I've enough worry."
"A stranger is almost bound to buy the place; hadn't you realized
that?" Steve gave a shrug that looked almost bored. "Why are you
burning yourself up about it? The fact that Mrs. Harvey asked your
father to act for her doesn't mean that she'd have as much confidence
in you. In any case, your father would have had to contact her before
accepting any offer at all. What's your angle?"
"I've no angle—only rights."
Steve's grey eyes darkened slightly, but his voice re-tained the
ninchalance. "What sort of rights?"
Dick's hands clenched and moved in his pockets. "I'v asked Tess
to marry me."
Steve didn't speak at once, nor did he change his ex-pression. He
merely allowed a long moment to speak for itself, and then,
carelessly, he straightened up and mur-
mured, "That rather alters everything, doesn't it?' Why didn't
you mention it first, and save us all a lot of hot air? Well, 111 leave it
with you. So long."
He sauntered from the room with arrogant composure, and Tess
was left with a hot mangled feeling in her throat* and jagged splinters
behind her eyes. She gazed at the grey ash between the bars of the
stove, willed herself to disregard the pain of love that seemed to have
become knotted about her midriff.
"Why did you tell him that?" she asked at last. "It has no bearing
whatsoever on the sale of Garth House. I wish you hadn't come here
this evening!"
Dick turned on her accusingly. "You didn't tell me he
was that kind of a man. If there's anything I can't stand it's the
self-assured, masterful type. I wasn't going to let him get away with
everything, though. He's done enough harm!"
"What are you getting at?"
118
! thought of it!"
' She drew a deep breath. "I cared, and I still care. If I
, need you."
:" "Some other time," she said offhandedly. "Good. night." "I
can't go out through that lounge on my own. He'd
think you'd kicked me out!"
She went ahead, but he caught up with her, and -by the time
they entered the lounge he had slipped his hand over hers and gripped.
Tess no longer cared. She sensed two men and Anita seated near a
low table, and Steve at the window, staring out. Then she was outside
with Dick, standing there while he opened the car door and paused,
miserably. She half-turned, felt him clutch at her shoulder and was
surprised into looking at him. The next second his mouth touched the
corner of hers. Conscious of the big lighted window behind them, she
did not jerk away. She moved slowly, said, "Good night, Dick," and
went up into the lounge.
Without looking at anyone at all she was able to say, "Do you
mind locking up, George? I'm going to bed. Good night, everyone."
She took a bath and got into bed, opened the book she had
bought, but found she couldn't read a word. She put out the light and
lay back, queerly conscious of a kind of
119
shock and of a blinding, conflicting emotion. New knowl-edge
of herself touched her nerves. She felt desperate and lonely, lonely as
she had never been in her life before.
For several days after that life was uneventful. The men had
early breakfast in the kitchen and cleared off, then Tess served
herself, took coffee and toast up to Anita and remained upstairs to
make beds and tidy the rooms Some mornings Anita did not. appear
downstairs till noon, and on those days Tess would go through the'
men's mending or do out the cupboards or wash and iron her own
things and Anita's. She didn't mind any of the services for Anita
Vance; in a way, they put distance between herself and the slender
young widow, accentuated Anita's place in the household—that of
hotel guest.
In the afternoons Anita often had friends for tea. She would
come down in a gay frock with the white kid-skin jacket over it, and
set herself out in the stoep to await their arrival. She never told Tess
that she expected visitors, nor did she say anything before sliding into
the scarlet convertible and racing down into Pelton or out into the
hills to call upon someone.
on the table before sounding the gong, and she wheeled in the
main course on a trolley that was large enough to accommodate
everything but the hot pudding, in order to restrict her appearances to
two brief ones.
The first time she had absented herself from the dining-room —
on the evening following the scene in the kitchen with Dick—Steve
had given her one grim glance and that was all. Since then he hadn't
looked her way once. He had taken his turn at the woodshed, repaired
the Buick, in-spected all the new wiring and replaced the old flex of
the vacuum cleaner with a new one, but he had stayed clear
120
I That Saturday, Roland Kain left by train for Toronto. j George
drove him down to the railway station and Tess
^ went along for the drive and to collect some things she I
needed. They waited with Roland for the train, laughed i when he
bemoaned the fact that he'd lost an address book I full of cute dates.
though you are a bit messy about the kitchen. I'll save some
washing-up for you."
were safe on the back seat and said she was ready to return to
Garth House. George was in less of a hurry. He took her
to a cafe for tea, bought a couple of tickets for a cabaret show at
the Lake Kenegan Hotel and said he was taking her there tonight.
"What about the dinner?" she asked.
t "Hadn't you heard? Steve and Anita are going to a
"Then that lets us out, doesn't it—in every sense?" she answered
evenly.
He smiled his slow smile. "I think you'd rather go out with me
than stay at home with me, wouldn't you? You don't want to go over
to Blue Valley?"
"I ought to, but perhaps Sunday is the best day for it."
"Dick feels a bit raw. He's a sensitive sort and finds the burden
of the ranch rather wearing."
"He won't mind your going places with me, will he? My age
should make it safe, from his viewpoint."
Tess only smiled and shrugged. She couldn't think about Dick
Nieland without seeing Steve, cool and uncaring as he had strolled out
of the kitchen last Monday.
When they got back to Garth House at six the place was
deserted. Without even thinking about it, Tess got into her green print
and made up her face, trod into unfamiliar high-heeled black suede
shoes. She accepted George's sur-prise and admiration with a numb
smile, and as they drove down the lake road in the early darkness she
looked at the onyx expanse of water and thought of the country club,
which was reputed to have been built alongside one of the most
beautiful rivers in British Columbia. It was the same river, she
thought, which emptied into the lake four miles below Garth House,
and whipped rapidly among a series of bush-covered islands before it
evened out into the lake proper. You couldn't see the white waters
from the road, but a few rich people had seized on the view and built
their lakeside houses facing it; they had even turned a
The dinner at Lake Kenegan Hotel was very French, the cabaret
good in parts. A colored singer broke his heart over someone, a wiry
French-Canadian juggler sweated through his act and an amateur
string trio gave music which was beyond their range. The highlight of
the bill, fairly well-known singing twins, were good to look at as well
as to hear. When the turns were finished a dance band struck up and
George insisted that Tess "take him round". Canadian-fashion, a
young man tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Sorry, pal." George
grinned, and yielded.
For the next hour Tess really did forget her cares. She
rediscovered a natural rhythm in her bones, picked up new
122
g".
t steps in no time at all and thoroughly enjoyed the couple of
men who scarcely let her sit down between dances.
One of them said nothing but, "Gee, that hair and that skin,"
over and over. But the, other told her all about him-self, promised he'd
darned well bring a bunch over to
get a young man who looks an Adonis and yet hasn't one idea in
his head. The sensible ones are more craggy-
looking."
"Only with my parents, and we didn't stay for the dancing. You
know," she said with youthful eagerness, "I'm a much better dancer
than I thought I'd be. Will you take me again?"
"I sure will. You're the only woman I know who can respond to
ordinary, pure fun without a touch of sophistic-ated boredom. It's a
pleasure just to take you out and watch you."
123
tray upstairs and gave George a large cup and two biscuits -on
her way to her room. In leisurely fashion she undressed
and got into pyjamas, drank some tea and brushed the whitish
curling hair. It hadn't been cut for six weeks, she
remembered suddenly, and its present length suited her Iy£g
back as it did, with a nestling of shallow waves at
were high and dry and might as well make the best of it
They were on a light friendly footing from the start, and
She put out the light and looked across the balcony
at a crescent of pale green moon above the fi_Wo"ld
she have heard from her mother by full moon? She hoped
124
; CHAPTERSEVEN
;TESS missed Roland Kain more than she would have | thought.
Of the men, he alone had seen through Anita
Tess was not often alone. A couple of times she drove ' over to
Blue Valley and spent an hour or two with Dick,'
: but he hadn't much to say for himself, though Mrs. Lesley
overdid the talkativeness. On Tess's second visit the housekeeper
stayed with them for tea. She cut a fine fruit cake, said she'd wager
Tess would never have the patience to make anything so rich, and
disparaged girls in general. But when Dick was called away for ten
minutes the Scotswoman folded her arms across her waist, pursed her
lips in her hardy old face and commented:
"You may think it's clever to monkey with a man, but take care
you don't overstep yourself. He's not so keen on taking a wife that
he'll chase you for ever. Remember that, young woman!"
Tess smiled. "You're transparent, Mrs. Lesley. You'd hate Dick
to bring a wife here, but it so happens that you'd hate still more to
have him go off travelling in Europe. Well, whatever he does, it won't
be my concern. If I were you, I wouldn't persuade him to do anything.
Just wait till his father gets back."
"Don't give me advice. You don't belong here yet."
125
Later, just before she left, Tess had a word alone with Dick. He
had gone out with her to the old car, looked it over and shaken his
head.
"It's a wonder it still hangs together," he remarked. "Is it any use
asking you once more to let it go in part exchange for something
newer?"
She shook her head. "It'll last me out, and it's roomy. Are you
feeling better, Dick?"
"I'm all right in the daytime. I just hate the -nights, though."
She hated them herself, often. "But while the news about your
father is good you should at least not be unhappy."
"I wonder if I shall ever be happy again. I can hardly
recall how I felt before knowing my father distrusts me." "That's
an absurd way to look at it. Perhaps it was
126
When she drove away he looked morose and fed up. She fought
with herself for a while, made herself believe
; that her life was her own, not Dick Nieland's. Time, and
his responsibilities, would help him most, she thought.
The barbecue party arranged by the young man Tess had met at
the Lake Kenegan Hotel was a happy affair. Thirty-four young people
arrived packed in cars, just after dark, and the men of the party
immediately set about stoking up the charcoal fire which Tess had
started in the brick-lined pit just beyond the lawn. There was a grid to
fit the pit, and an old table stood near by, spread with a gay check
cloth and loaded with dishes of seasoned steaks, cutlets and sausages.
When the men had the cook-ing under way, Tess brought out stacks
of plates and paper
Anita came into the kitchen, smiling sleepily. "Will you bring a
glass of hot milk to my room, Tess? The skimmed
;milk, of course."
' "Anything to eat?"
j "No, it's just that I don't feel sleepy. Milk always helps."'
I • 127 •
"We put on a barbecue for some people in town. I'll clear the
garden in the morning."
"A barbecue? Why, that's a whale of an idea! I've been
wondering how Steve and I could repay some of the hospitality we've
received, and a barbecue is the perfect answer. You can't order up
anything in a dump like Garth House, but ... a barbecue! I'll talk to
Steve about it.
As she turned to the door, Anita paused. "By the way, there's
something you ought to know — about George."
"Yes?" Tess found herself tensing slightly against the jingling of
that bracelet but her expression was blank.
"Just a hint — for your own good," came the little-girl voice
confidently. "George likes you, but that's all. He'll
never marry."
"I like him in return, Anita," said Tess evenly, "and I shan't ask
him to marry me. Does that set your mind at
rest?"
1| She answered him and went into her room, sat down Ed
resolutely wrote up the accounts book. Tomorrow,
i decided, she would go into Pelton and buy the frock, s had
promised herself.
|; "Miss Harvey, there's a letter for you. Boss sent me |mto town
for the mail and I made a mistake and brought
|away one of your private letters. My buddy here was
porting the mail and found it, so I thought I'd better | deliver it."
j "Thank you very much," she said. "Was there any t'other mail
in the box?"
| "I left a couple for Mrs. Vance. This one was a mistake. Boss
always says we're never to touch your letters."
F "You've saved me a trip. Like a cup of coffee?"
"I would, but I was warned against it. 'No sticking around in
town for coffee and hamburgers', the boss says. I guess that means
here, too. So thanks, but no."
Tess waved as he left, looked down at the bulky letter and saw it
was postmarked Calgary. The writing was Roland Kain's, and the
very sight of it lightened her heart a little. Roland had promised to
write, but she hadn't thought he would; he wasn't the corresponding
Tess would hardly believe it, he told her, but on the way down
to Vancouver he had had George Maxwell on his mind. By the time
he'd got in he'd decided to miss the next train for Toronto and use the
spare hours on "an altruistic mission". With care, because it had to be
approached casually, he had got in touch with Frances Brodie and
asked her to take pity on him for the evening. It had taken a lot of
persuasion to get her assent, but eventually he had picked her up at
her flat and they had dined at a club. Frances had carelessly asked
after George and his sister and then dismissed the subject, but Roland
"in my evil, seductive fashion", had encouraged her to take a drink
and loosen up.
"The result was she told me the whole works, and believe me,
it's as bad as it can be. She called Anita 'that baby vampire', but said
nothing against George. Seems she saw Anita before George showed
up in Van-couver last time, and the dear little thing was as nasty as a
heartless and rich young widow could be to a woman of thirty who
has always earned her own living. Frances should have told George,
but she was afraid it might make things worse — that he would think
she was being vindictive at a time when Anita felt tragically alone.
Consequently, George had only Anita's angle on it, and though he
may not have wanted to believe all he heard, he was swayed. He did
make an attempt to get the three of them together one day, but
Frances wouldn't have it. She told him on the telephone that before
she saw him again he must decide whether she or Anita were the most
important to him. When he told her bluntly that he couldn't forsake
Anita she calmly replied that she quite understood and wouldn't be
writing to him again. About that side of it you know the rest.
"But look, chum, we can't let this happen without a fight on the
woman's behalf. She's a fine person, and George is damned lucky to
have her in love with him.
130
So will you talk it over with Steve? Frances has been in-structed
to present herself at the hospital in N.S. on the first of next month —
which allows just over a fortnight for changing her mind, less, really,
because she's bound to leave Vancouver in good time. . . ."
The final couple of paragraphs only emphasized what Roland
had already written. If anyone could help it would be Steve Fenner; he
wouldn't relish poking into [another man's affairs and Roland thought
it pretty hope-less even to put the matter to him. But the slender hope
had to be tried out. Had Roland felt he might stand a
"I'm sure I don't know," came the offhand reply, and Anita
strolled .out and got into the scarlet roadster.
All day Tess thought about the letter from Ronald. She helped
Mrs. Wills, lunched alone with her, made a steak pie and apple
shortbread for dinner, prepared the vege-tables and soup, pressed
some salted beef, ready for the men's lunch box tomorrow and tossed
a salad in a garlic-scented bowl. She ran Mrs. Wills home and came
back to find the two men taking a drink in the lounge.
131
And as usual she shook her head. But today she did not walk
straight through to the kitchen. "Has Anita come in?" she queried.
George answered. "She's gone out for the day — didn't you
know? She left out an evening frock for Steve to take along to a
friend's house this evening."
"No, it's all right. I'll be serving dinner in about ten minutes."
And she left them.
Exactly ten minutes later George came into the kitchen. "Seeing
there's just the three of us, we may as well eat in here," he said. "I'll
set the table for you."
Tess did not comment; she had half expected it. But there was
something painful in sitting there intimately with the two men. She
had got out of the habit of eating with them, and now the atmosphere
was different from those early days. Roland, of course, had provided
light relief; but Steve, too, had mocked and bantered and paid her
backhanded compliments on the food. Tonight he had soup and pie, a
section of the apple shortbread and a piece of cheese, but he ate them
abstractedly — without tasting them, she thought. Once she caught
him watching her, impersonally, as if she merely happened to
to be in his line of vision.
"I think not, thanks," she said. "I'm going to bed early. We were
all late last night."
George smiled. "You should have been here, Steve. It was quite
a barbecue. I took to my room in self-defence, but I found myself
watching it all from the window. Tess
went slightly mad and it did her good."
"I also made a nice profit," she mentioned. "And do you know
something? I'm going to spend it on myself. I mean to look quite a
swell when I leave for home. I'll sail away in a private blaze of glory."
132
'c "George knew about it. In any case, I can please myself." She
stood up. "Coffee here or in the lounge?"
"I'll get it," said George. "Do me a favor. Go into the lounge
with Steve and let me wait on you."
She went first, walked straight into the window nook and began
arranging a table with a chair on each of its three sides to face the
dark outdoors. It wasn't pitch dark yet, and the lake had a sombre
look, but the moon was already climbing, not yet full but silvery
green and brilliant.
end stiffened her. "Steve, before George comes ... I'd like a
private word with you some time soon." -
"Heard from your mother?" he asked at once. "No, it's nothing
to do with me, really. But I would
like ..."
"Straight after coffee," he said quietly, as George came in.
"We'll take a walk."
While they sipped she sat silent. She didn't much fancy the task
ahead, but she would have done much more for George Maxwell.
Without knowing it, he had helped .her
a great deal recently, but even if he hadn't she would have felt
that intrinsically he was worth whatever she
might endure from Steve.
133
how close he was becoming to Anita, the deception had
bolstered her pride too, and she had gone to lengths to keep aloof
from him.
Steve had no sooner finished his coffee than he stood up. "You
might look out those papers for me, George. I'd like to go through
them before I go out," he said.
"They'll do, but I'd like them complete. Would it take you
long?"
134
H "We won't argue that point. The fact is, I've had a §|etter from
Roland Kain."
I' "Congratulations."
fcments if you don't want them. All right, you've heard from
|Kain."
|tree, heard her out and let a few minutes elapse before jstating:
I "There's not a thing anyone can do. You know that."
I "It seems there must be something," she said. "I can't Jbelieve
that two people who love each other and are free
'•Vis sister, and she's still nervy from the sudden tragedy.
; The fact that Anita and Frances don't get along together
iisn't outlandish. Lots of women don't like other women."
Frances."
.They're adult people, far more aware of the details of their own
situation than you can possibly be. Has it occurred to you that Frances
is in love with George as he is — not as he might be if she got him
away from his sister? If he left Anita anchorless he wouldn't be a
happy man."
"But he doesn't have to run out on Anita. He'll always be her big
brother — someone she'll be able to depend on, whatever happens.
One can understand Frances feel-ing humiliated, but how can George
bear to hurt her so much? He's not a ... a cruel man."
"Like me?"
135
But Tess had no intention of being drawn into that kind of peril.
"I did hope you'd think of some way of at least keeping Frances
Brodie in Vancouver. Then we might stand a chance of getting
George to see her there some some. I suppose he's hurting himself as,
much as he's hurting Frances, but he finds a bitter satisfaction in doing
what he considers his duty, and she hasn't that
compensation."
"You sound almost wise, young Tess," he remarked
sardonically, "but the wisdom is watered with sentimen-tality. What
do you want me to do — tell George that Frances Brodie is about to
put three thousand miles
between them?"
"Actually, Frances made Roland promise he wouldn't
tell George. She ... she doesn't want to make a problem of it, I
suppose. But do you think his knowing about it
would do any good?"
"No. I think he'd have another fight with himself, but
stay on here."
"I rather agree." She sighed. "I like George immensely, but
whenever I think of what he's doing to that woman I
could cheerfully bat him with a brick."
There was a brief silence, while both gazed down towards the
water. Then Steve said, "You never look at
it from Anita's angle, do you?"
She cast him a quick glance. "Anita will never lack someone to
take care of her. She'll marry again," keeping her voice very steady,
"perhaps in only about six months. But for George it will be too late."
"Why should it be?"
Her head went up. "Because Frances Brodie has normal pride as
well as a sense of her own worth. If George
waits till Anita has married again before trying to come to an
understanding with Frances, he'll have lost her for
ever." ' |
"How did you work that out?" |
"Well, I ... in thinking about it I put myself in her |
place. I know she's older, but I feel I can understand | the way
she's reacting. If she can't be more important to j
him than his sister, she'd rather have nothing more to do | with
him. In love and marriage you can't take second j
136
"Not even when his family is someone small and alone and
defenceless?"
Anita wouldn't, but Tess did. She said carefully, "There's the
principle involved. You know Frances; can you imagine that she'd be
in love with George and horrid to his sister — just for kicks?"
"I think his decision was weak." She looked away from him.
"What would you have done in his situation?"
' "I'd never find myself in that position," he said cynically.
"He's known Frances several years now and been in love with her
practically the whole time. That couldn't possibly happen to me. I'd
have married her or finished with her within a year."
Yes, he would; Tess didn't doubt that. But she asked, "Would
you ever allow anything or anyone to come
The lines of his face had hardened and his smile was not too
pleasant. "Let's leave me out of it. You're trying hard, for George's
sake, but I'm not convinced that he wants things any different."
"Who is?" The cynicism was back in his voice. "None of us has
romance served up with just the trimmings we'd choose. George's
case may be a little different from most, but he gets along."
He looked at her with eyes that had gone as cold and bright as
steel. "I'll give it some thought," he said curtly.
"And while we're alone, I'll give you some advice too. Don't kid
yourself that your intelligence and occasional wisdom entitle you to
assume that you know everything
138
about everyone you meet. You may have learned a good deal
about Dickie-boy and even a little about George Maxwell, but that's
the total of your knowledge of men. Remember that!"
She pushed back her hair with a hand that trembled slightly.
"Why? What did I say?"
'Too much. Let's go back." But as she turned to retrace her steps
his hand brushed her shoulder, to detain her.
"Oh, Steve! I did hope you'd say something like that. You don't
know how . . ."
"That's enough. I'm being a fool about this, and the last thing I
want is gratitude. If you're right about Frances, my seeing her won't
do a scrap of good."
"But if you could take George . . ."
"I've thought of that too. Just leave it for now. And, honey . . ."
"For Pete's sake try, some time, to forget Garth House, George
and Frances Brodie and even young Nieland, and take a long deep
look into yourself. I'll wager a year's salary that you'll discover you're
not the girl you always thought you were!" There was an ironic twist
to his mouth as he ended, "I've already seen part of you that you're not
even slightly aware of."
"That's a bit frightening."
"Don't worry, little one — I've got right out of the experimental
mood. Stop thinking about George." He pushed her gently, to make
her walk with him. "Have you decided exactly what you'll buy with
the barbecue profits?"
139
"Me too," she sighed. "I'll be glad when all this is over and I'm
on my way back to England."
They had covered the rest of the path in silence and were
entering the garden when he asked, "Sorry I came
to Garth House?"
Tess wasn't sure. She hesitated, and apparently that
was sufficient answer. Steve took the steps in one stride, said a
cool "So long", and crossed the lounge towards the
stairs.
The next evening, just after dinner, Steve said he'd be
away for the week-end — had to pay a duty call on an old
fishing companion. Anita playfully suggested that the
However, it seemed that the two men talked it over privately, for
on Saturday morning the two of them got into the estate car, waved to
Anita at her bedroom win-dow and said goodbye to Tess. Tess had
tried to get Steve alone for a moment, but he had appeared equally
intent on avoiding it. She searched George's face, decided
he looked a bit heavy and serious but nothing more. "You and
Anita will be all right, won't you?'" he
asked anxiously.
"Perfectly. Have a good time, you two."
"And don't forget to keep the place locked up after dark," was
Steve's injunction. "I've told our foreman to come over and have a
good look round at midnight."
"I've slept here quite alone," said Tess. "It's safe as the Bank of
Montreal."
The car moved off, Tess went indoors and cleared away the
breakfast things. Surprisingly, Anita came down before
140
"I didn't tell the men because they'd have fussed," she said, "but
I've been invited down to the Gregorys for the day. We'll be yachting
most of the time, and they have a party tonight, so I shall probably be
invited to sleep there. If I stay the night, I shan't be back till tomorrow
afternoon." The predatory topaz eyes were slanted at Tess. "You'll
make money out of us all this week-end, you lucky doll."
She sped away in the scarlet convertible, and for the first time in
a month Tess could look forward to a com-plete day, or even longer,
of her own company. Momen-tarily, she wondered how Anita would
have acted had she known where her brother had gone. And then
Anita didn't
matter any more.
Tess would have liked to know what Steve had planned, how far
George was in his confidence. She would have. liked to know how
Frances Brodie was feeling now, and whether her spirits had yet
fallen low enough for her to capitulate. Just a fraction of yielding on
one side might alter the whole outlook for Frances and George.
Though whatever might be decided this week-end, there was' still
Anita.
141
CHAPTER EIGHT
the corner of the couch with some glossy magazines. She didn't
want any food, said she made a practice of eating no more than one
lean meal in the course of a day; hadn't Tess noticed?
"I don't get colds and I never take risks. I keep thoroughly
healthy on a scrap of food and vitamin
tablets."
"But what do you get out of being so thin to make up for the
things you have to go without? What is your waist
measurement — twenty?"
"Nineteen. Yours must be twenty-three or four." "About that —
it's at least a year since I was last measured. But I'm too active to have
superfluous weight."
"Well, if it's what you want," said Tess vaguely. "There's only
one thing about my appearance that dis-
satisfies me."
"Really?" Tess surveyed her. "I can't see a single detail
that's wrong."
Petulantly, Anita shook back her thick dark hair. "I'd have loved
to be a genuine blonde. I wouldn't even
142
"I wish the men would come," she said. "What am I to do about
dinner?"
The men ate supper in the kitchen, George lit his pipe and went
into the lounge while Steve took a look at the electric pump, which
had been acting up again. Tess went out to the little pump-house,
wedged herself into a dark comer. For several minutes she watched
Steve who, on his haunches, was tinkering by torchlight with the
pressure
gauge.
in the centre of town, and picked him up at the same spot today.
That's all."
"Didn't you . . . talk to him about Frances Brodie?"
"No, honey, I didn't. That's his business."
"Then how do we know . . ."
"We don't, and maybe we can't even guess. All I can say is that
George likes fishing more than I do, and he'd have
gone with me if there hadn't been something more im-
portant on his mind."
"Do you think he saw Frances?"
"There was no indication, one way or the other."
"Well, why didn't you . . ." Blinding torchlight illuminat-ing her
face cut off the sentence before it was shaped. "Don'tl"
143
At once the beam was lowered, and Steve had straight-ened. "I
did that to stop you getting heated over some-thing that's already
caused a lot of trouble. I'll do what
I can for George, but I'm damned if I'll put point-blank questions
about his love affairs. I refuse to mention Frances before he mentions
her himself."
"I'm sony," she said, and for a placating instant her fingers lay
on his sleeve. But she felt his withdrawal, and dropped her hand to her
side. "You see, I've been think-ing about George all the week-end,
and hoping."
"All the week-end?" with crisp satire. "Even when y
were with Dickie-boy?"
"How did you know I went to Blue Valley?"
"I didn't know. I thought that seeing I'd gone away, Nieland
might have come to Garth House."
"I ... didn't tell him you weren't here."
"No?" mockingly. "I'm sure you're not afraid of your
fiance. How is he getting along?"
She steeled herself to give nothing away. "Why ask?
You don't care."
He sounded acid. "I can't care about everyone. I chased all the
way to Vancouver for your sake. D'you realize
that?"
"I hoped you'd done it for George."
144
"Skip it," he said brusquely. "And next time you hear from Kain
I'll reply to him for you. Go on in — the nights are getting chilly."
"Not as chilly as you are."
A short silence. Then; "What did you expect? Did you think
we'd bring Frances back with us? Don't be more naive than you can
help!"
"Oh, nuts!" she said crossly, and left him.
During the next day or two she watched George more closely,
thought that perhaps he did look less weary, and yet could not be sure.
He was sweet to Anita, looked pleased when she went out with Steve,
and set himself out to give Tess as good a time as could be managed
in the small town of Pelton.
Tess received a letter from her mother. The offer for
Garth House, Mrs. Harvey wrote, was quite exciting,
but she had been very much concerned to hear about Mr.
Nieland's collapse. After much thought, she decided that
a heart case would welcome something to think about,
and she had set out the details of Mr. Fenner's offer in
a letter to Mr. Nieland in Calgary and was now awaiting
his reply. As soon as she received it she would write again
to Tess.
"Take care of yourself, dear," she ended. "I'm so glad Dick is
there to help you with the boiler fire and the maintenance. We both
know how difficult it is to run the place without a man."
Life went almost flat at Garth House. Anita suggested that she
and Steve might give a barbecue for their friends, but Steve dissented
and said he would prefer to invite
145
Then one evening, offhandedly, Steve told Tess that George had
had a letter from Frances. It had been among the company mail and
he himself had handed it over to George. Just slightly, George had
betrayed himself; no doubt at all that he'd been hppmg for such a
letter. Tess drew a deep sigh and smiled a little shakily.
"If only it's the right sort of letter. What was he like
afterwards?"
"Deadpan, but not downcast."
Then, one morning, came the expected letter from Mrs. Harvey.
Tess had picked it up in town and read it while seated at the wheel of
the Buick. Her mother had heard from Mr. Nieland and was happy to
announce that he agreed to Mr. Fenner's offer for Garth House. All
the necessary papers would have to be sent to Calgary for his
signature, as her proxy, and it might take some time, but as Mr.
Fenner was a guest at Garth House, Tess would no doubt find it quite
easy to explain all this. Un-fortunately, Mrs. Harvey stated, she
herself had little ready money, but perhaps Tess would be able to save
enough from her present income for her fare home. The money from
the sale of Garth House would probably
Tess pushed the letter into her pocket, started up the car and
drove towards the lake. She ought really to go
146
gtraight over to Blue Valley and tell Dick, but she was
jjbeginning to shrink from his dogged, suffering expression
jtoarry into the Nieland family. Had there ever been a |proposal
or even the suggestion of one before Dick had
jgone away with his father Tess would have understood, jand
minded less. But there had been nothing except a
jfairly close friendliness which had been founded more ^on Mr.
Nieland's affection for Mrs. Harvey than on
t She parked the old car in the bam, crossed the yard
|and went up into the lounge. No sign of Anita, but it ?was only
ten-thirty. Tess hesitated, decided to get into a
|frock and go back to tov/n to do some personal shopping.
?She ran lightly up the stairs, reached the upper corridor |just as
Anita slipped from George's room into her own. |Anita couldn't have
heard her ... or could she?
j; Tess entered her own room, got out of her jeans and cshirt,
washed and put on a plain powder-blue linen she jhad not worn much.
She brushed her hair, used a rub jof lipstick, found a white purse and
packed into it all the poney she had saved. She had stepped into a pair
of jplam white shoes when Anita came in, without knocking. Anita,
with flames in the yellow eyes and an uncontrol-lable twitch at her
dark red lips, her hand an obvious fist in the pocket of her white
brocade housecoat.
Anita spoke first, in a hoarse whisper that was nothing like her
usual childish tones. "I suppose you think you
look cute as Christmas," she said. "You think you're a
147
went out an hour or so ago I've learned a few things that I'm sure
you had a finger in. It was you who persuaded George to go down to
Vancouver last week-end!"
'"He didn't have to." She swung about, stared at the. balcony and
back at Tess. If her mouth hadn't twitched so uncannily she would
have looked merely angry; as it was, she appeared a bit ... crazy. "I've
just read a letter of his — from another one like you, only she's older
and more dangerousl"
Tess took a fresh grip on herself. The moment of shock had
passed and now she merly had to be careful what she said. Nothing
provocative if she could help it, but nothing
palliative, either.
"Do you usually read your brother's letters?" she asked. "I read
those that concern me — and this one did!" "Does George know?"
"He does not — and you're not going to tell him. He locks his
private things away in the top drawer of the chest in his room, but in
this place where the furniture
is ordinary, every key fits every lock. I've seen the photo-graph
of Frances, the letter she wrote him months ago saying she wouldn't
see him with me — it had be alone! When we came here she stopped
writing; I knew that too. I haven't looked in that drawer for weeks!"
our house to nurse my mother, many years ago. But you're a lot
younger than she is, and I didn't think you'd be so tricky. I knew
George liked taking you out, but I could also see that if he feels
anything for you at all it's just a
148
; Anita's tongue stole out to moisten the dark red lips. t"I do
want him to many, of course I do. But not that jwoman who snaked
her way into our household and made |;a direct play for him."
t 149
she shook her head, a glazed look in her eyes. "He's never going
to do that. Nothing in this world would make
George desert me. Nothing."
Tess's impulse was to push the other girl down into a chair and
make her listen to some sense; but she realized that Anita was past all
that, had been past it for a long time. Somehow, this clinging to
George had become an obsession with her. Perhaps he was the only
person in her whole life who had been willing to sacrifice himself for
her, and fiercely she was determined to keep him till ...
till she had Steve? Tess felt an icy tremor run through her body.
Would Steve marry this girl if he could see her now? Probably. He'd
set about making a whole and happy woman of her.
Through dry lips she said, "If you loved George you'd want his
happiness. He's already given up several years of marriage for you,
and you haven't the right to demand more of him. Supposing he loses
Frances now — and you marry again within a year. He'll be alone, but
you won't care."
"He'll be better off without Frances, anyway! And you mind
your own affairs and leave me to look after mine.
If you say one word about this to George . . ."
"George! That's all you can yammer about. Are you afraid to
discuss Steve?" The glassy yellow eyes were stari
now. "You really are keen on him, aren't you, my poor pink-
and-white idiot? What a laugh that is! And you've decided to splash
out on new clothes." She stopped
abruptly, gazed at the powder-blue frock. "Is that where you're
going now? To the shops? To doll up for Steve?"
"Anital What's got into you?"
150
"Don't you realize that I've only been able to endure you because
you look like something from the backwoodsl If you start mincing
about in ..."
She lunged across the room and snatched up the white envelope
purse, glared a challenge to Tess to come and get it. Tess stood very
still, her left wrist hard against the tumultuous hammering of her
heart. She couldn't have touched Anita just then had her life depended
on it.
But she was able to say, "You're being very childish,
Anita. I have to buy clothes before I can travel home to
England."
enough for a tourist passenger. I'll return your money on the day
we part company!"
open the purse and dragged out the dollar bills. Frenziedly, she
took the bunch into one hand and flung the purse into a corner. Then,
while Tess watched her with a horrified fascination, the thin silver-
tipped fingers tore the bills to shreds and sent into a shower over the
bed and out of the balcony window. A few strips fluttered
in the breeze before they disappeared.
: The next moment Anita had slammed from the room. Then
the thud of her bedroom door shook the house
and there was a mighty crash inside the room. Tess
swayed out into the corridor, curled her fingers into palms
which were slippery with sweat and gathered the
mirror which had stood upon the chest. For a long, sicken-ing
moment Tess stared at that thin form in the white
wrap, shaking and banging fists into the pillow. Then she quietly
gathered the glass and shattered frame, put them into a waste basket
which she carried from the room.
Almost without thinking she got into slacks and a blouse, and
collected the scraps of the torn bills. As one
does in moments of stress, she thought inconsequentially;
151
table drawer.
Inevitably, she went straight downstairs and made some tea, set
about baking plenty of cakes and a sponge sand- ' wich for the men
tonight. She felt cold and drained, and was not a bit surprised to see
that the sky had become overcast and a drizzle had started. The
weather was just right, couldn't have been a better match for her
mood.
Anita did not come down all day and Tess did not go out. The
rain came faster, the yard filled with puddles, the lake became
obscured by a grey curtain which Tess watched despondently from
the lounge window. At five
him, told him dinner would be ready soon after six and there
was plenty of hot water if he'd like a bath. He smiled and whistled
tunelessly as he left her and went upstairs.
At no time during that evening was she alone with eithe of the
men. Anita saw to that. There was the command from Steve that Tess
eat with them, and her refusal; his tight-lipped insistence and her mute
shake of the head.
He had looked at her pale face and shadowed eyes, clamped his
teeth and let her please herself.
Later, while the radio played in the lounge, Anita had crept into
the kitchen. She was brilliant-eyed and white-
faced, vibrant with nerves.
Tess," she whispered, "I can't forgive myself for the way I
behaved this morning. That's why I stayed away
152
She looked tiny and forlorn; Tess was torn between pity and
distrust. "Stop worrying about it," she said. "To-morrow's a new day."
Something flickered in the topaz eyes, something disturb-
ing. Then it was gone and Anita was just a tired girl again,
contrite and appealing. "Yes, I think I've had enough of today," she
said in thin tones. "I'm going to bed." But she did not move at once.
"Tess, let me go with you to buy your things tomorrow. Will you?"
"If you want it very much."
"I want us to know each other better. We've been here
together for some weeks, but we don't understand each other at
all. Maybe it's my fault. I've just gone off with
other people when we might have had some good times
— the two of us. It'll be fun to go shopping with someone like
you. I've awfully good taste in dress, you know."
"We'll decide in the morning." "You're a pet. Good night."
Tess answered her, set the breakfast table and decided to go to
bed herself. In the back haU she hesitated. Better not to behave any
differently from other nights. She went into the lounge, where the two
men were immersed in some outsize sketches.
"I'm going up. The back door is locked. Will you see to the
front?"
153
But Steve went with her to the foot of the stairs. "You're sure
there's nothing wrong?"
"Quite sure."
"Why did you get all tensed up when I asked you to
eat with us this evening?"
"The weather again, I suppose."
"I don't believe it. Have you been thinking about that letter from
your mother and wishing you'd never passed on my offer? Maybe
you're wishing you'd sold outright to
the men before they left for North Tucket. If Steve looked at her
it was only fleetingly. His whole demeanor
was remote and preoccupied.
sweater and a pencil-slim white skirt. She had just the figure for
zippy sports wear, and the noisy charm bracelet on a thin wrist
somehow enhanced the effect of casual beauty. She appeared to have
not a care in the world.
154
"I don't mind, but not' today. You almost look dressed for
yachting."
"Yes, but it's rather far to go in the canoe, and the lake there is
swift-running."
and I can handle an outboard motor too. Please let's go, Tess."
Tess could think up no valid grounds for refusal. The sky was
blue, the lake inviting, and a day away from Garth House in Anita's
company might work wonders for George. Not that she had any wish
to reopen dis-cussion about George and Frances. But if one could
under-
Tess felt she wouldn't want much more than that herself. She
filled a small tin, added a couple of apples, a flask of coffee and
another of milk to the basket, and Anita was ready.
They locked the door and went down to the canoe. The air was
warm, almost too warm for the old crew-neck jersey Tess wore, but
when she had pushed out to the
center of the lake there was a breeze that found its way ; through
the wool in exhilarating little gusts.
There is a knack in handling a light canoe. As Tess
155
wielded the paddle now she remembered trying to learn the art,
and even capsizing a few times. Without any
form of steerage but the paddle itself, one was apt to turn in
circles and rock perilously till the knack came, sud-
like a thin, eager little girl whose only desire was to please.
Anita bailed regularly, pointed excitedly to some small creature that
swam ashore and disappeared among the bracken, told tales of
raccoons and buck beaver-holes.
The Sake widened and the majestic firs receded. Behind them,
the blue line of mountains was clear-cut against
the sky, and Tess recalled that always, whenever she saw those
crags from this point, she had vowed that one day she would climb
one of them and get a really good view of the Rockies beyond. It had
always been a bit of a disap-
Anita talked as Tess had never heard her talk before. About a
coastal village where she had often spent a holiday as a child, about
snow-covered hills that always looked
156
"You can steady the canoe while I tie it up. This is a rather
peculiar place, you know. There's a current pulling at the boat Can
you see?"
"It's because we're not so very far from the rapids," Anita said
carelessly. "Actually, the Gregorys live very close to this spot and I've
been here often. You can reach their house up there, through the
trees."
"We'll get it," Anita said confidently. "I could even take it
without asking, but perhaps I hadn't better. May I
have my biscuits and cheese?"
Tess gave her a plastic plate with the ration she had
requested, took a crabmeat sandwich for herself and lay back on
a mixture of stones and grass. The atmosphere
was tranquil. Water lapped lazily among the stones, and if she
turned her head she could see the tall pines throng-ing the side of the
lake. Just above them there was a
past no more than a dozen feet above the lake, a buzzard cried
harshly but did not show itself. At last Tess looked
at her watch.
157
A sigh. "I feel lazy, but we'd better move. There's still time to
take a quick run down to the first island. Tell you what, Tess. You go
round to the landing stage in the canoe, and I'll climb up and get
permission to use the outboard motor-boat. I'll be waiting at the
landing stage for you."
"Is the house as close as that?"
"It's just up there — the trees hide it. You'll have to paddle well
out and round the bend. It's not more than half a mile, but don't keep
close to the bank because it's
rocky. Just arrow straight out to deep water till you see the
landing stage, and then make for it. You can't miss it."
"But are you sure it will be easier for you to go this way? You
could just as well go with me. I wouldn't mind waiting at the landing
stage while you go up to the house."
158
Had the whole day been a build-up — for this? Was it possible?
Tess told herself vehemently it couldn't be, yet nothing could dispel
her clear conviction that from habit she had wedged the bailing tin
under her seat before tying up. In which case only human fingers
could have dislodged it and lifted it from the canoe.
no expert, and she doubted whether, after this, she would ever
become an enthusiast.
Impossible, she found, to scoop water from the canoe with one
hand and paddle with the other, and if she drew in the paddle and
bailed with both hands the light canoe broadsided and bounced. Some
time soon she would have to decide what to do when the canoe sank.
She wasn't
a bad swimmer, but the nearest bank was the one where
the white rapids were already in sight, and the other
must be three-qaurters of a mile away. Impossible to swim
among boulder-strewn rapids, but ... Yes, she would
somehow have to make it to the island. It was much
nearer now, and though the currents in its vicinity were
powerful, by using all her strength she might manage to nose the
canoe hard into the earthy bank.
But the Garth House canoe was old and weary; it
sprang another leak and within seconds it sank beneath her. The
shock of the deep cold water nearly paralyzed
Tess. Then normal instincts got her limbs moving, and she
struck out with all she had for the island.
15S>
He put the drink on the table, strode to the stairs and took them
in threes. He looked into George's room. "Is
Anita in?"
"No, but her car's outside, so she won't be far away." Steve went
to Tess's room and tapped on the door,
"The Buick was there when you ran into the shed." George
paused in the act of unbuttoning his shirt. "Tess always insists on
being here by five to get dinner. I'll bet Anita's kept her somewhere.
I'd say a friend called for Anita and she begged Tess to go along too."
Steve considered this. "You may be" right. I'll go down and get
the stove going. Maybe there's a message some-
where."
stoked the boiler fire and took another look at the two ears.
Audibly, he cursed Garth House's lack of a tele-
160
phone. The minute he'd signed the contract and became half-
owner of the place he'd see that a telephone was installed, even if he
Had to pay for bringing the line out here himself!"
to take much walking, and Tess would not stay away from what
she conceived to be her duty — the preparation of dinner for two
hungry men. Though Steve's hunger had vanished along with his
nonchalance. What the hell were they up to — clearing off like that!
At spine-chilling speed he took the road back to Garth House.
There he discovered that even George's stolid
composure had cracked.
"The canoe has gone," he said hollowly. "If you haven't found a
trace of them among your friends, they must have used it."
Steve lost color. "It may have sprung another crack since we
repaired it. I warned both Anita and Tess that it might!"
"It did leak —Anita used it with one of her friends, and said .so.
They'd have the bailing can, of course, but ... to be out so long. It's
quite dark now."
put in at some inlet that's nowhere near a road, and are simply
hoping that a boat will pick them up."
In the ghost of his normal voice, George said, "Unless they've
decided to find a way home and are lost in the
forest."
"Shut up," said Steve savagely. "Bring the flashlight from your
car and let's move."
The following hours were nightmarish. At the yacht club they
were lent two motor vessels and acquired a few helpers. George went
in one boat and Steve in the other, and separately they combed twenty
miles of the lakeside with torch beams and floodlamps. In the small
hours Steve returned to Garth House, to find it as he had left it. Then
he went back to the lake, zigzagging and shining lights, shutting off
the motor to shout and listen. The delicate flames of dawn swept
down the lake, burning into the
indigo, turning it pale.
Lake Kenegan looked benign and calm; the men in the two
boats were pale and tired, but willing to carry the search to its end. It
was Steve who asked if anyone would volunteer to accompany him
into the rapids; it would take two men to handle the boat and anything
they might
encounter.
"If they entered the rapids late yesterday afternoon," on man
said, "they're either done for or down at Lake Kenegan Hotel by now.
In a light canoe, I'd say . . ."
162
. But they never did reach the great arching branch at Hhe bank.
Steve was using the binoculars, scanning the
'island.
They found Tess on her knees, trying to stand up. The ash-
blonde hair was damp and lifeless, her face grey-white, her blue eyes
lacklustre. In her wet clothes she was shivering violently, but
somehow she managed a wan smile.
"Hallo," she said weakly. Then closed her eyes and let Steve
take command. She felt him lift her, felt the thick shirt against her
cold cheek, the motion with which he carried her. And she heard him
say, in a voice that was harsh and controlled;
"Anita will be somewhere. For the love of Pete find her
quickly."
c, i? *
She awoke in her own bed, quite suddenly. There was a face
very close to her own, a square young face that looked anxious and
despondent and peevish.
He was bending close above her and she couldn't bear it. She
felt weak and small and . . . and was remembering
163
She heard him stand up, and looked at him, "Don't go, Steve,"
she said quickly. "I'm quite awake. It's only ..."
"That's all right," he said evenly. "How do you feel?"
"A bit whacked. What time is it?"
"Nearly twelve."
"Thank you for . . . finding me this morning."
"It was yesterday morning."
"Yesterday?" Her eyes were dark and incredulous as
.she stared at him. "Have I been here in bed since yesterday?"
"We're getting along. Mrs. Willis is on the job and arranged for
the woman who was coming to help you to show up a few days
earlier. She'll be arriving this evening, to stay."
"I'm glad. Are you getting your meals without any trouble?"
"Sure. I've been eating from cans."
"And ... and George?"
He said offhandedly, "He's gone down to Vancouver for a
week."
She moistened dry lips. "You mean that . . . that . . ." "That's
right. You and I were alone in the house last night. Couldn't be
helped, and you didn't know anything
about it, anyway, Mrs. Patten will be here tonight." They'd been
alone in the house before, she recalled
dully. "Dick wants me to go to Blue Valley," she said.
164
"As your fiance," he answered stiffly, "he has a right to ask it."
today?" •'
"I can lay off for a day or so — and you're no burden. In any
case, I feel responsible for what happened to you."
A flatness came into her tones. "So that's why you're here."
"I'll help you when you're ready. You're lucky to have come
through so well. You were in bad shape when we found you."
Though blunt, his tone was also gentle; yet there was a steely
quality in his glance that made Tess feel dither-ing and defenceless.
She had had enough, and dissembling was almost beyond her.
She floundered. "I don't want him hurt any more. You wouldn't
understand, but ... Dick isn't strong, as you
are. He's been . . . touching the depths just lately, and I didn't
want to make anything worse for him."
165
You may have got through without a severe chill, but you're still
shaky."
And with her back to him she was able to inquire, "Has Anita
gone with George?"
For just a second his fingers dug into her shoulders. But his
answer came casually. "Yes. Legs feel weak?"
"Not too bad." She half turned her head. "Did . o g
did she tell you where to find me?" I "No."
166
the sleeves of the gown, tied the girdle, knew that after several
hours under a sedative she probably looked frightful, but that it didn't
matter. "Please tell me the rest."
"There's little to tell. She must have climbed a very steep ascent
straight from the lake, and managed it perfectly. It was while scaling
the second outcrop, among the trees, that she slipped." He stopped,
and asked after a moment, "What's your story — that you were both
out in the canoe and it began to leak?"
"Too much water to bail and the canoe sank? It seems you made
for the island and she for the bank."
She touched her icy cheeks with trembling fingers. "That's right.
I ... I'm a fair swimmer. Do you mind if ... if we don't talk about it any
more?"
"There's just one thing. You were wet from the skin out, but
Anita was only damp with dew. When you feel like it you can tell me
how that came about"
Suddenly Tess passed the limit o,f her endurance. To her intense
humiliation she was weeping unrestrainedly. She tore away from him
and fell on the bed, burying her face. When she felt him near her
nerves, screamed.
"Don't touch me," she cried. "Go away and leave me alone. I
don't want to see you again. Just go!"
She wasn't sure when he left her; she only knew that when at
last she lifted a pale face and looked about her with pink-rimmed eyes
she was alone. She got up and draggingly made her way into the
bathroom, bathed her face in cold water and brushed her teeth. The
mirror showed lean young features and heavy eyes, and for a long
time she stared at her reflection and willed her mind to work again.
Garth House, that she had pushed out in the canoe for
home, and simply had the bad luck to hole the bottom
But Tess knew that for George's sake she would never speak of
her parting with Anita, of the lost bailing tin, of the rapids which were
nowhere near the lakeside
house of the friends from whom they had been going to borrow
an outboard motor-boat Only very dimly could she realize herself
what had happened. Anita, young and beautiful but definitely warped,
had gone a little crazy when she had read that letter to George from
Frances Brodie. She had confronted Tess, hurled all sorts of insults
and torn up the money, but, incredibly, had apologized and repaid the
cash, made the friendly gesture of wanting to spend the day with Tess
on the lake. Only she hadn't felt friendly; under the winning exterior
she had been fiendishly angry and malevolent. It was possible that
anger and triumph had been responsible for the careless instant when
she had lost her footing.
She crawled back into her bedroom, lay down in the dressing-
gown and looked at the sky. The window was wide; it let in the scents
of outdoors, the clean smell of
the lake, the bracing air of approaching autumn . . .
fall, they called it here. An appropriate word, too, for the long
Indian summer, the reddening trees which sud-denly became
skeletons rising from beds of russet and brown. This year she
wouldn't see it. The leaves would be that strange combination of
green and plum which pre-ceded the fires of autumn . . . but that was
all. Tess let out a shaky breath, but she couldn't weep again. She
had no tears.
At one o'clock Steve brought in a tray. A boiled egg and fingers
of toast, a peeled orange, a small pot of coffee. She murmured thanks,
but he said nothing, and she guessed there was something
smouldering under the chilly exterior. He put cigarettes and matches
beside her, placed
168
half a dozen magazines within reach and went out. Ten minutes
later she heard him drive away. Now, she thought tiredly, was her
chance. She could get up, could leave Garth House if she wished. But
no. Steve wouldn't have left the way wide open. She wouldn't mind
betting that he had locked her in and taken all the keys. Not that
she had any urge to escape. Wherever she might go, there could
be no escaping the bleakness of her heart.
Somehow she got through the rest of the day. Steve came back
and brought her some tea. At seven-thirty a small wiry woman
brought her a light supper. Mrs.
Patten was shy and self-effacing. She said Tess was not to worry
about anything, that she had just been managing three chalets down at
the other end of the lake and Garth House was likely to be a picnic
compared with that. She could stay for the rest of this month and the
whole of next. By that time there would be plenty of help available in
Pelton.
Steve came in to collect the tray, and all he said was, "Good
night. Sleep well," as he went from the room. Tess was alone till
morning. She tried to read, got up and stared down at the jet expanse
of the lake, thought of chipmunks and ^squirrels quarrelling and
snoozing
among the trees. A faint breeze blew through the pines, brought
air tanged with resin into the room. She lay down again and put out
the light, fought down the love and pain that kept choking at her heart
and throat.
169
"You'll find compensations," she said. "I'll have some tea ready
for you when you come down."
It was over tea, about half an hour later, that Tess mentioned
George.
Roland said soberly, "I heard about Anita through
our head office. They've told George he can take a month's
holiday, if he likes, but it's my guess he'll come back
here as soon as he's through with the business in Van-
couver. He doesn't want time to think. Not yet, anyway."
"How do you think Frances Brodie will feel about things?"
"Heaven knows. George did see her, after I'd writte you, didn't
he?"
"I could take a guess. She's full of pity for George, but won't
have anything to do with him till he's well
over the worst."
She nodded. "She wanted' George to make the choice
— not Pate."
"Exactly, and she's n.o hypocrite. You know, you'll be a bit like
Frances when you're her age — unless you marry and have a
rollicking family by that time. What about settling in Canada?"
She smiled faintly. "Is that a proposal?"
"Heaven forbid! What about the chap at Blue Valley?"
"We're just friends."
"And Steve?" very quietly.
She kept the smile. "Not even friends . . . but that's how things
go. More tea?"
He shook his head. "I used to wonder if Steve had it badly for
Anita or was just kidding her along. It's strange how blind even a
hardened case like Steve can be. I suppose he's up to his eyes in work
and as approachable as a wounded bear?"
"I must say I like you all feminine," he commented. "That blue
flowery thing does something for your eyes, •but they do look tired. I
haven't quite, got the hang frf what happened to you on the lake."
171
"The canoe cracked open and I had to swim for it. I spent the
night in the open."
Mrs. Lesley, having admitted Tess only into the hall of the
house, crossed her arms characteristically across her waist and lifted
her leathery chin.
"I've heard it all," she said in aggressive tones, "and I must say
I'm not sorry you've refused Dick. You've got mixed up with a strange
lot over there, and I'm sure it's better for Dick to keep clear of them."
"Will you tell him I called to~thank him for the things he sent
over and for coming to see me?"
"I'll tell him, but he won't care." There was a hard jubilation in
her expression. "You did him the best turn in the world when you
refused to be brought here the other day. He was dead keen to marry
you so that he could keep the place for himself, but when you stupidly
turned him away I had to comfort him and think up something
quickly. We've heard that Mr. Nieland will be coming back here after
his few weeks in the clinic. Did you know that?"
"No, I didn't, but it's great news."
She asked at once, "Is it possible to look at the North Tucket site
without being seen?" -
"He said he'd take me, but things didn't work out that way. Just
give me a glimpse of it."
Resignedly, he swung the car towards North Tucket. "For this,
you ought to be kind to me. What about a film tonight?"
She hesitated, then said, "Not the cinema, but I'll go out to
dinner with you."
"Sweet grief. Do you really mean it?"
"I sure do," she said. "They don't dress for dinner during the
week at the country club. Let's go there."
"You've got yourself a date," he stated firmly. "Hang
road down there, a straight brown ribbon into the prairie. And to
the left of that road, not far from an arc of trees,
the mine was visible; a collection of buildings, black gear for
sinking the shaft and a vast, tarpaulin-covered mass of mining
equipment.
'The gang are quartered in long camp huts among the trees,"
Roland explained. "We three are working in the
wooden huts, but you can see the shell of a new brick building
to the left. That's to be the main offices. Some
173
"Nor I." Steve is down there now, she thought. She said, "Let's
go back. I wish I hadn't come."
It was one thing to get away from Garth House for the evening
and quite another to escape from inner conflict. But Tess got through
without anguish. There was something hard and cold where her heart
had been, and she was grateful. She didn't want to feel any more, ever.
And the discord within could only be lessened by forgetting; there
was no outlet here for it.
Somehow there was solace in doing things for the first time with
someone who didn't matter. This first visit to the country club, for
instance," was neither heightened nor made drab by Roland's
companionship. She saw
the place for what it was—a well-built stone edifice which was
plentifully panelled in arty-facetious signs. They served an excellent
dinner, provided amplified gramophone music on weekdays and the
Pelton Dance Band on Sat-urdays, and were proud of the long
pinewood bar and
its variety of wines and spirits.
There was plenty of talk and not much dancing because
everyone knew everyone else. Even Roland was well enough known
to attract others to their table. The time passed almost unnoticed, till
couples began to leave and
Tess found it was midnight.
Steve was smoking in the stoep when they got home. Tess said,
"Thanks a lot, Roland; it was lovely. Good night," And to Steve
another "Good night," without
looking at him.
174
dinner, which the men ate in the dining-room while she •<
stayed in the kitchen with Mrs. Patten. Most evenings she spent in her
room.
"You're now liable, Mr. Fenner, along with Mrs. Harvey. What
are you going to do with the property?"
"Live there for a while. By the- time the weather breaks I'll have
built a place nearer North Tucket. It's half-way finished."
Tess felt the familiar tightening in her chest. He'd kept it secret...
or perhaps told Anita. Had he hoped to share it with Anita? Or had
he ...
Steve slanted his cool glance at Tess and answered the man
evenly, "We'll do the business the impersonal way, through you. I'll
have the cash waiting at the bank when the transfer is through."
"Good. Goodbye to you both."
They came out into the street, a big, lean, brown-haired man in a
grey suit and a girl in ordinary navy linen. But
Steve didn't open the door of the estate tss
"If you like," he said, "you can do that shopping you've
postponed a few times. I have to call at the bank ar-d the newspaper
office and it may take me an hour or so. What about meeting at the
cafe over there—inside?"
"£ ... I didn't bring any money."
175
Her throat ached as she turned and left him. The very sight of
him made her feel wretched. But she didn't feel much better when he
was gone and she was approaching the big department store. It was all
over, she reflected. He had signed and was virtually half-owner of
Garth House; she was nothing there any longer, not even her mother's
representative. In fact, she was free to leave whenever she wished.
The knowledge was like a lead weight on
her mind.
She bought two frocks, one of mid-blue jersey cloth and
at a counter just inside the store, where she could pick them up
later, and she came out and down the main
street towards the cafe.
For the first time she noticed that Pelton was really quite a
splendid town. Wide streets, modern shops, busy-ness everywhere
and yet time for a chat at the edge of the pavement or refreshment in
one of the cafes. Well-dressed women piling weekend needs into their
cars, men throng-
ing the sports shops and looking happy as they came out
carrying a parcel of fishing accessories or golf balls. Sud-
denly it came to her that she knew many of the faces, that some
of the people even smiled at her because they
knew she lived in the district—which meant they recog-
nized her as a local if nothing else. And suddenly to be a
local in this district was important, something it would be
a wrench to give up.
She entered the cafe, saw Steve getting up to seat her.
176
"No, but there'll be other things." She drew on the cigarette, took
an interest in edging the ash on the metal ashtray. "Would it make any
difference if my mother sold her half-share in the property to someone
else? Would you mind?"
"Why?" There was a rough note in his voice. "Are you hoping to
persuade her to do that? You want to break
the last link?"
"It seems sensible, doesn't it?"
"No, it seems cowardly."
To her relief the tea arrived then. She poured it, a little
shakily, .drank it too hot. But she needn't have hurried. Steve smoked
and drank, looked along the cafe and out of the door and said nothing
more till they were ready to leave. They collected the parcels and
drove straight back to Garth House.
They were almost there when he said, "I don't believe I told you
about my house at North Tucket."
"You know very well you didn't."
"That's right—I do. It's not very big—four rooms and
"No!" She glossed the sharp negative with: "I don't care for
houses that haven't been lived in."
"It seems," he said with cold irony, "that you don't care for
anything in this district. Are you hoping that Dickie-boy will be a
more charming companion in England?"
177
"In love, Tess?" asked George, looking kind and tired at the
same time.
• had probably seen her while she was under the sedative.
He looked worn and older, but hadn't the angry, strained expression
she had noticed once or twice in Steve. They were such different men,
though. George looked as if at last he had found some sort of peace;
nothing even mildly happy about it, but it was tranquillity; he'd
probably settle for a sad quietude, for a while. She wondered if he had
seen Frances in Vancouver, and whether the woman was already on
her way to Nova Scotia. Strange, but she felt she knew Frances
Brodie quite well; yet they would
never meet.
That day, because it was Saturday and Mr. Patten was there for
the weekend meals, Tess ate with the three men in the dining-room.
George was fairly silent and apparentl without appetite. Steve put on
his absent expression and spoke only of work, and it was left to
Roland to conjure
a light note.
And that was the theme of the whole weekend. By Monday Tess
was feeling raw and a little bitter. Because she had to do something
she forced herself to enter the room Anita had occupied, was
surprised to see it looking
178
"Are you Tess Harvey?" she asked. "I'm Frances Brodie May I
come in?"
CHAPTER TEN
"No. I learned about you from Steve and Roland Kain." "Nice
men, both of them." Another pause. "George
told me quite a bit about you when he came down for the
weekend a short while ago. He thinks you have lots of
courage and spirit."
Tess grinned wryly. "They're at a low ebb, I'm afraid.
I'm getting ready to leave (his part of the world myself."
She hesitated, and then took a chance. "I feel I know
you very well. You don't mind my having heard about you
and . . . and George?"
Frances shook her head, but her glance clouded. "Every one
knows. That's partly what I'm running away from. Even at my age
there are things one can't stand, and my
particular aversion is pity. I don't need it."
180
| had known what he was doing when he had merely Is. pointed
a way to George and left it there.
Tess nodded. "George was happier than I'd known him when he
returned from (hat weekend."
"Yes, I know. For the first time since Anita lost her j husband
we talked without any reserve. It didn't solve
J anything, but I did realize how he felt.-He promised to
| come down again before the end of the month and we
| each gave our word that we'd write regularly till he could
I - 181
weekend, that his duty to Anita was far stronger than his
feeling for her. Her selfishness had destroyed his affection, but
even I could see that that made her the more depend-ent on him. We
talked it over as a big problem that concerned us both, and we decided
that if Steve married
her . . ." She broke off. "That's not important now. After George
had returned to Kenegan he wrote to me and I answered him. The
next thing was a telephone call from him, right there in Vancouver.
He'd already been in town several days, the funeral was over and he'd
just signed papers renouncing his claim to Anita's wealth. I refused to
see him. Somehow, just then I couldn't. Being young and open-
minded you may not understand that."
"You're as sensible as George said you were. That was just it. I
needed time to adjust, and the few days to the
end of the month weren't enough."
"And that's why you're still going to leave the day after
tomorrow," said Tess flatly. "Perhaps George will change
your mind."
"No, we both need six months."
"George doesn't."
"We're not young and headstrong, you know, and now that I
know we're going to marry I want the preliminaries that go with it—
not a happiness built on grief. We need the time it will take to let the
last year or so slip into
perspective."
Tess pressed out her cigarette, gave a long glance at the other
woman's clear profile. Normally, she was sure, Frances was a serene
person. Was there any swift way
of assisting her back to serenity? Tess felt too immature to make
a decision; she could only be honest, and hope
it would help.
She asked carefully, "Did George tell you what happene
to Anita?"
"On the telephone? Yes, he said you and she were in a canoe
that leaked, (hat you'd both swum for it and reached land, but Anita
had had to negotiate a steep rocky bank and had fallen. A fatal
concussion, he called
182
E^it."
^ "He may be hoping for it, I told him I'd get in touch | with
him before I left, but after thinking it over I had
to do it in person." She lifted her shoulders, looked away. "If he
weren't the rugged, loyal (ype I wouldn't be in love with him, and in
sticking with Anita he was only acting in character. He knew I'd
always had to take care of myself and look after patients as well, but
Anita was like a thin flame, blown all ways by her own desires and
: couldn't take it. He was the one human being she could
trust and depend on. She couldn't take her mother away from
me, but' it v/as something of a triumph to part me from the man I
hoped to marry. She tried hard, even before Larry died." Frances
sighed. "If one could have taken her in hand, made her grow out of
the childish voice and jangling bracelets and that unhappy restless-
ness . . ." .
She didn't finish; there was no need. Gradually she and Tess -
drifted from the subject. Frances took a look at the lake, had a wash
and ate lunch on the stoep. Then they strolled in the woods, and
Frances talked of her life in Vancouver and questioned Tess about
England and her years at Kenegan. To Tess that afternoon was like a
balm spread over the raw places in her mind; it soothed them.
By five, when she had to give a hand in the kitchen, Tess felt as
if she and Frances Brodie had been friends for
1.83
ever. The disparity in (hen- ages had been overcome by the need
to get everything said quickly, before the men appeared. As she tipped
shelled peas from their polythene bag and washed them, she found
herself rather glad that she would not witness the meeting between
Frances and George. If she could have managed it, she would have
contrived that they meet entirely alone. As George used his own car
and Roland invariably travelled with Steve in the estate car, even that
might be possible.
She heard the cars arrive, but nothing else. The wood stove was
crackling, the tap running, water boiling and Mrs. Patten's slippers
flapping backwards and forwards as she examined the casserole
chicken and the broiled ham, the vegetables, the blueberry pie, and
between times tossed
the salad.
Roland breezed into the kitchen. "Well, well, women
galore in the house. You might have rootled one out for me!"
"No more redheads, I'd rather go stag! You've got to come and
have a drink with us. Steve's orders."
Tess hesitated, and Mrs. Patten urged, "Yes, you go along, Tess,
I'll serve the soup at six-thirty prompt. That'll give you all time to go
out for the evening, if you want to."
So Tess untied her apron, pushed back a whitish wave
hair and squared her shoulders. For some reason she was^ glad
to be wearing her black skirt with a pink and white striped blouse. She
entered the lounge with Roland, auto-matically looked at George. For
the first time he was showing a little of what he felt—a cautious relief
that was near to happiness. Had Tess thought before acting she
would never have done what she did then. She-crossed to
him and kissed his cheek.
"Why, Tess," Roland simpered coyly, "George didn't
kaow you cared!".
A glass was put into her hand and she looked up at Steve. The
smile left her eyes, but she clung to it with her lips, and thanked him.
He placed a chair for her, and sat half facing her as he lifted his glass.
184
^'SSI^SW^'S
stay, Frances?"
The older woman shook her head. "I'm committed for
three months, at least. It'll soon pass."
off."
"No, I'd weaken, and I mustn't. Besides, if you came in my car
you couldn't get back without a lot of trouble. I can easily manage the
return trip—I came alone."
Had George been the type to air his emotions he nughSall have
said a great deal just then; instead he looked^l^H
staying here."
Quite steadily, still looking at Frances, Tess stated, "It's not
spur-of-the-moment. I really do have to leave Canada very soon, and
I'd love to make the trip with you."
"You're not going," said Steve. "Forget it, Frances." Tess looked
down at the drink on the low table. "It's no
concern of yours, Steve. No one can stop me—not even you.
You're more or less the owner here now, and you have Mrs. Patten to
keep house. I'm superstitious, and believe it or not, I'm longing to go
home."
185
^^^^^^^•^ " few quick paces towards the stairs. But ^^^^^^•pp
with her, grabbed her elbow and literally ^^^^^^^Rutdoors, into the
gold light of sunset.
give in."
Roland laughed and drained his glass, laughed again,
delightedly, at his own thoughts. Then with an exaggerated "Will you
two be all right alone?" he got up and went upstairs to change.
Neither George nor Frances said anything for a long time. He
had slipped his hand over hers on the arm of he chair and didn't move
again till she said:
"Just the bare three months, George. No longer."
* * *
Tess, meanwhile, was being marched down the footpath
towards the lake. In her throat was a lump that felt like a piece
of coal, and at the back of her eyes a dozen needles
were jostling. She tried to pull her arm from Steve's
grasp.
"You're hurting me."
186
"About . , . what?"
She lifted her shoulders a little hopelessly. "I could see how you
arrived at it ... but it wasn't like that. I couldnt tell you then because I
didn't want George to know, but things are different now." She looked
at him.
187
"No. No, I didn't. But I asked for it, really. It was through me
that George went down to Vancouver and saw Frances, and it was a
letter that Frances wrote after-wards that caused most of the trouble.
Anita read it and flew into a rage; she grabbed my purse and ripped
up the money . . . but she did replace it afterwards."
"And then what?" he asked quietly, mercilessly.
and inlets when we came to ... to the rocky part of if. I ... it
makes me feel rather . . . sick now ... to re-member that we picnicked
at the foot of that . . . that column of rock . . ."
"All right." He was gentle but unsmiling. "Go on, if you can."
"She ... she said (he Gregorys lived up there; she was going to
ask them if we could borrow a motor-boat for a short cruise down to
the islands. I was to canoe round to the landing stage."
She bit at the inside of her lip, rubbed her fist in a curiously
youthful gesture against her chin. "It was leaking when we started out,
but Anita' bailed while I paddled. Steve, I..."
"Come on," he said, almost pleadingly, "there can't be much
more."
"Lost it?"
"It wasn't in the canoe. By the time I knew that, Anita had
disappeared and I was too far from the bank to . . .
A— »>
^i^.ius.Wi'.'.ste^^-^tiss^'^wss^iw.-^aie^^S^^^^i®^^
she felt warmth and support. Steve was holding her so tightly
that every breath of chill and fright was gone.
"That's enough," he was saying thickly, against her hair. "I
suspected something like that; it's been torturing me. And you
wouldn't say a word about it!"
"I didn't know how you felt about Anita," came her muffled
reply.
"Maybe not. But you must have known a little of what I felt
about you! You don't feel angry and tender and full
of need about someone without showing it. You knew what you
were doing to me—you must have known!"
"I'don't know what you mean," she whispered.
"Then I'll show you! A while ago I said I wouldn't kiss you
again till you begged me to. I'm not a man to break my word, but
you'd better start begging . . . quick!"
She raised her head, and it was enough. His kisses sent wild
tremors along her nerves. Half swooning, wholly ecstatic, she slipped
her arms about his neck and felt
herself drawn up to her toe-tips.
He was kissing her hard and hungrily, almost cruelly, and his
hand gripped and moved over her shoulders as if
he had to feel to believe.
At last he just held her, breathless, close to him.
"Frightened?" he asked softly.
"Yes," she breathed. "But. I like it."
She felt his brief, silent laughter. "Think you can bear it for the
rest of your life?"
"I want to, Steve. If only . . ."
"None of that; it's been worse for me than for you. If you'd
trusted me there wouldn't have been any of the damned misery and
frustration. You pride yourself on your wisdom—so you knew I loved
you."
"Not love, Steve. I knew there was something . . .
something different between you and me, but I'm so ....
189
"Try it and see! You should have had that fun before I met you;
it's too late now."
"I don't want it." A short silence. Then she asked slowly, "Were
you at all fond of Anita? Don't be cross. I have to know."
also in the hope of hurting you a bit, I took her out with Pelton
folk. There was no joy in it, I assure you!"
"And she could never have been happy," he said tersely. "Get
that into your head. I'm sure that even George
realizes it."
"I hope so. George is a dear, and Frances is just right for him. I
do wish she wouldn't leave him."
"I think it's best, though I'll see that he goes down to Vancouver
with her tomorrow. You know, a man who's given so much to
someone like Anita is bound to feel empty when he loses her. George
has to recoup himself,
190
channel all that loyalty and fortitude towards Frances, and it'll
take time."
"But he's already loved her for years."
"It didn't need two of us to drool over the guy. And why the
heck didn't you say at once that you wouldn't marry him?"
"To me it seemed obvious. And I can't think that you believed in
it either."
"I didn't, but it nagged . . . like a good many other things. I kept
trying you out, trying to make you say he meant nothing to you. But
you wouldn't, and I was in
no state to believe the best. Even your friendliness with Kain put
me on edge. To me, you were safe only with
George!"
She laughed, and held his arms tightly. "I'm terribly sorry I
spoke to you as I did in front of the others a little while ago.
Something sort of ... urged me on. I had to find out just how you'd
take it—my wanting to leave with Frances."
"I'll make you atone for that," he said. "Feel right, now?"
"Magnificent!"
"Hungry?"
"I believe I am. It's getting dark, and I'm sure Mrs. Patten will be
flurried."
"We'll eat, and then go out somewhere. Tomorrow I'll take you
down to see the house. Even old George doesn't know I planned to
live in the new manager's house myself. You'll love it—compact, yet
spacious, everything up-to-date. Nothing like Garth House!"
"But I've loved Garth House too. I'll be sorry to leave
191
"I only want to remember it as it is tonight. You and me, and the
house with a few friendly people in it." She slid a hand into his. "I'd
like (his to go on for ever."
"I wouldn't," he said softly, just above her ear. "I want Kain to
clear out, and George take the job he was offered at head office. I
want to live in that new house with you, and it can't be too soon."
"Do you ever think about that house in Quebec—the one your
father bought for your mother?"
"Oh, Steve!"
"We could cable your mother — get her over here in time."
"I love you, Tess — your spirit and pluck, that silky hair and
your eyes and lips, and your absurd compassion and your prickly
pride. You're the girl I've been waiting for all my life. I guess the
laugh's on me, and I don't care!"
Her lashes were wet, her lips quivered into a smile. She couldn't
speak, could only look what she felt — that this infinite tenderness in
every fibre of two human beings was the essence of loving and being
loved. And for herself
THE END