Lauren's Dilemma (14 page)

On their
arrival at the small country railroad siding, he persuaded a local youth to
drive them the fifteen miles to Coolibah station. Now they were actually here,
Laurie could feel the tension of the last few days draining away, leaving her
with a feeling of excited anticipation.

Three
people waited for them on the front verandah. An enormous elderly woman, who
must have been all of twenty stone in weight, detached herself from the others
and waddled forward with outstretched arms. When Blair climbed down from the
buggy, he was engulfed in a bear hug and almost lifted off his feet.

“Mr. Blair,
let me look at you. Oh, you're so pale and thin, you poor lamb.” The woman’s
eyes brimmed with tears.

“Fergie,
it's good to be back. You'll never know how I longed for some of your
home-cooked meals. I especially missed your apple pies.”

“Go along
with you.” She chuckled with pleasure.

“I want you
to meet Laurie Cunningham. Laurie, this is Mrs. Ferguson, the best cook in Victoria.” Blair gave a
boyish grin.

“Hello,
Mrs. Ferguson.” Laurie felt shy and awkward.

“Call me
Fergie. Mr. Blair wrote saying how kind you were to him.”

Laurie’s
heart gave a little skip. Instinctively she felt the old housekeeper approved
of her.

The others
came up now to shake Blair's hand. A wiry middle-aged man with sandy-colored
hair was Angus MacLeod, the manager. He shook Laurie's hand with such vigor,
she forced herself not to look at her fingers to check whether they’d been
snapped off or not.

The other
man was introduced as Wally Morgan, blacksmith and horse breaker. “How are you,
boss?” he drawled, grinning broadly as he nodded to Laurie.

“Hello, Mr.
Morgan.”

“Aw, call
me Wally.”

The men
wore stockmen's work clothes, grey shirts, white moleskin trousers and black
leggings. Mrs. Ferguson’s print frock was almost hidden behind a huge white
apron.

“Come in
for some tea, Tom?” Blair invited the youth who had driven them out to
Coolibah.

“No thanks,
boss.” He lifted his hat to Laurie, and they all waited on the verandah until
he drove away.

“Come along
now. My, you are a pretty girl, such hair.” Mrs. Ferguson chattered almost
nonstop, and Laurie found herself liking this kindly, garrulous woman.

A carpeted
hall led into a large sitting room with comfortable early Victorian furniture.
Her eyes were drawn to a huge timber over-mantel that had slender beveled-edged
pillars. A large mirror, set above this, had an intricately carved frame.

Mrs.
Ferguson bustled away to prepare tea, leaving her with Blair and Wally.

“I'll be
glad to get out of these.” Blair grimaced at his uniform. Officially, he was to
remain in the army until arrangements could be made to have him medically
boarded.

“Laurie,
after we have our tea, Fergie can show you to your room, unless of course you
want to freshen up first?” These last few words were tacked on as an afterthought.

Glancing
down at her creased white skirt, hanging like a limp rag, she inwardly wished
she could tidy herself up “It's all right. I'll have tea first.”

When Angus
entered the room after taking the luggage to their rooms, the three men started
discussing meat prices and cattle. Wally Morgan, on closer inspection, appeared
older than she had first thought, probably in his late forties. He looked so
dark-skinned she wondered whether he might be part aboriginal.

“Do you
come from Melbourne, Miss?” Angus asked suddenly, as if just remembering her
presence.

“No, I'm
country born and bred. My father owns the Sandy Ridge
general store. Mr. Morgan, do you have many horses?”

He stared
at her for a moment, and then a slow grin creaked across his face. “Yes, we do,
mainly for stock, though there's still one good horse left here.”

“Firebrand.”
Blair joined the conversation. “How's he doing?”

“Getting
along fine, needs more work, though. I exercise him as much as I can, but being
so short handed...” He shrugged. “Won’t ever be as fine as Starlight…” He
trailed off, leaving an awkward silence.

“What
happened to Starlight?” she asked.

“He's in Egypt
most likely,” Angus put in.

How stupid
I am, she suddenly remembered many Light Horsemen had taken their own mounts
with them.

“I'm
sorry.” She glanced at Blair’s lips, and they had narrowed into a thin, tight
line. “I forgot.”

“Don't
worry. I would have left him in good hands over there, I suppose. If only I
could bloody well remember.” He thumped the arm of his chair with a clenched
fist. “God, I have to remember.”

Mrs.
Ferguson saved the situation by coming in with their tea.

“Miss
Laurie,” she said, flushed with embarrassment. “Mr. Blair always drinks tea
with the men, if they have things to discuss, but now you're a guest in the
house…”

“Don't
worry about me; keep on doing what you did before. Things have changed because
of the war. Besides, I always ate my meals in the kitchen at home,” she
confessed with a laugh. “We didn't even have a separate dining room.”

“Well…”
Fergie glanced at Blair for confirmation.

“If Laurie
doesn't mind, it would make things easier. Angus and Wally always eat their
evening meal with me but, of course, if you…”

“Everything
is settled. We'll have all our meals together,” Laurie interrupted Blair. “I'm
not one of those snooty society misses. My father owns a general store in a
small country town, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.” She tossed her head.
“Milk or sugar, Mr. Morgan?”

“Black,
thanks.” He grinned, showing even white teeth.

“Well, you
are the one.” Fergie chuckled as she bustled away.

“You could
always pick a good filly, boss,” Angus commented with a grin.

From then
on, Laurie knew she had been examined and approved. The freshly baked scones
tasted light and fluffy, and she ate hungrily. Blair drank his tea with
enjoyment, but ate nothing. The pallor had returned to his face. He looked
exhausted.

“I hope you
men realize the boss is going to have a rest when he finishes here.”

Blair
opened his mouth to protest.

“I mean it.
I promised the doctor I'd see you rested, and you will. Even if I have to get
Fergie to tie you to the bed.”

Blair gave
a wry grin, while the men guffawed.

“I can see
both these women having the time of their lives, keeping a leg rope on you,”
Angus taunted.

“She's a
slight little thing, yet she rules me with an iron fist.”

The men
excused themselves and left the room with a nod.

“Would you
like me to show you to your room, Miss Laurie?” Fergie waddled in.

“Yes, thank
you. Blair has to rest. The doctor said he wasn't to overdo things.”

“Come
along, Mr. Blair. No sulking, either. I put you to bed many times before, so I
can do it again, if I have to.”

Laurie
laughed. How wonderful watching this big cheerful woman handle him as if he
were still a child. Not surprisingly, he obeyed quite meekly, rose from the
chair and limped across the room.

He dragged
his leg badly now. When he glanced around for his stick, she knew he was in
more pain than he would ever admit. She waited until he came up to her before
linking arms with him, although her first instinct had been to rush over and
help him.

They made
their way down a hallway with doors leading off on either side. As soon as
Blair was resting she vowed to explore. So far the house was nice, not showy or
luxurious like Uncle Richard's, but everything seemed of refined, understated
good taste.

When they
came to his bedroom she hesitated, feeling too embarrassed to enter.

As if
guessing this, he gave a wry smile. “I can still put myself to bed, you know.”
Fergie entered without hesitation.

“Sorry. I
didn’t mean to be so obvious.” Laurie ran her hand along his arm. “I’m sure you
feel I'm being bossy, but you need to rest. If we took a buggy out tomorrow you
could show me around.”

He gave her
a quick kiss. “You aren't bossy, just sweet and caring. I can't wait to show
you everything. Explore a little today if you feel like it, but promise me not
to wander too far away from the homestead. I don't want you riding anywhere on
your own, understand? I know you come from the country, but things are
different here, it's wilder, more isolated. Promise?”

“Yes.” She
stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek just as Fergie returned from folding back
the bedclothes. “Have a nice rest, Blair,” Laurie said softly.

She
followed the housekeeper to a pretty guest bedroom. How lovely it looked
painted in white, with the door and window frames made from well-polished Huon
pine.

“This is
beautiful. Thank you, Fergie. You must have worked hard getting everything
ready.”

“No
trouble, Miss Laurie.” She smiled at the words of praise.

“Would it
be all right if I went exploring after I've unpacked?”

“I've
already seen to your things, dear.
 
Oh, I
almost forgot. There's a bathroom next door.” What luxury for someone who
always saw to her own needs.

“Explore as
much as you like, dear. I'm sure Mr. Blair warned you not to wander off. This
is rough country if you aren't used to it. As a little lad, Mr. Blair knew
practically every bush and blade of grass, but it's different for a newcomer.
I’d best be off about my business.” She bustled away.

Laurie
wandered into the bathroom to tidy herself up, then picked up a straw hat and
made for the nearest door, which led to another guest bedroom. Next to it was a
nursery with an ornate carved rocking cradle and several wooden toys resting on
a side table.

Closing the
door, she peeped into Blair's room. He slept lying on top of the bedclothes.
His boots and leggings lay discarded on the floor; otherwise he remained
dressed.

It was a
large bed, with a colorful patchwork quilt, but the remainder of the room
appeared so bare as to be austere. He slept on his back with one arm tucked
under his head, and she stood staring down at him. Guilt weighed her down.
 
What a dilemma to be in.
 
Living a lie but not daring to tell him the
truth.

He rested peacefully,
free from the pain that nagged at him most of the time. If only she could
unburden herself to him now, explain why she had started this impersonation,
but the doctors had been adamant. His memory must be allowed to return of its
own accord.

“I love
you,” she whispered, and she did. She now realized it wasn’t being disloyal to
Danny to care for Blair. There was a part of her heart reserved for him, always
and forever, but she could not spend the rest of her life mourning for what
might have been, continually resurrecting her shattered dreams. Danny wouldn’t
want that.

This
particular wing of the homestead held the bedrooms. The centre section
consisted of a large dining room, with crystal pendant lamps in gold wall
brackets. The dining set included a rosewood table with a folding flap at
either end.

The
reception room had gilded ceilings and ornate cherubs and laurels. Double
doors, made of colored pieces of stained glass, opened onto a side verandah.
This in turn led to a rose garden. Laurie began to realize Blair must be
wealthier than she had previously supposed.

The pantry
took up half of the large cheerful kitchen. A closed door most probably led to
Fergie's quarters. The housekeeper leaned over the flour strewn table rolling
out pastry. “I’m making apple pie for dinner, Mr. Blair's favorite. We preserve
all our own fruit from the orchard out back, grow all our own vegetables, too.”

“Do you
have many dogs?”

“A few
working ones. There used to be a house dog, but he died last year. It belonged
to Mr. Blair's mother, but with the men being away and all, we haven't bothered
about getting a replacement yet.”

“How many
men are employed here now, apart from Angus and Wally?” Laurie popped a piece
of leftover pastry into her mouth.

“There's
Mr. Chong, our Chinese gardener, and two shepherds we don't see for months at a
time. All the young men have gone off to the war, so at busy times we have to
make do with any casual stock hand we can get. Oh, there's the odd aboriginal,
too, though often as not, when we really need them they go walkabout.”

Even as she
spoke, Fergie kept on working, and Laurie ingested every word. She wanted to
know everything about Blair and his life.

“Mr. Blair
had a fine flock of merino sheep, but with the men leaving, Angus got the shepherds
to cull them, just left the best breeding stock. Cattle numbers are well down,
too, quite a lot have escaped and gone wild in the hills. There weren’t enough
men to round them up, but everything will be all right now Mr. Blair’s home,”
she said with confidence.