Unknown (7 page)

‘Why don’t you come out and tell him yourself?’ Morgan suggested lazily, not at all put out by her condemnation. ‘You can hardly expect me to jeopardise my position by giving that message. I’m sure in the first excitement of seeing you he would be only too happy to grant any wish you mentioned,’

‘Don’t think I won’t. It would be almost worth the trip to see you sent packing,’ Katriona threw at him savagely.

‘That’s the girl, and so that you won’t be out of pocket, I’ve written you another cheque. I’ll look forward to seeing you.’ Morgan got to his feet.

‘Keep your cheque! If I ever go out there, I’ll pay my own way. I’m completely independent, and I intend to stay that way. I will not be beholden to anyone. Can’t you understand that?’

‘I’m getting the message loud and clear.’ The smile faded, leaving his face aloof and stem. ‘Don’t take too long about making up your mind. You’ve not asked anything about your father. You’ve been too preoccupied with your own feelings, and I can hardly blame you for that, Perhaps you think he’s strong and healthy and in the prime of life. Just remember that he was a lot older than your mother when they married, and he’s not had the best of health since she left him.’

'Is he a sick man?’ Katriona was appalled at her preoccupation with her own feelings.

‘I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Your father would be very annoyed to know I had.’

‘You’re not going to tell me?’ Katriona asked in shocked tones.

‘No, I’m not going to tell you. If you want to know you’ll fly out and see him.’ He stood up and put an envelope on the settee. ‘There’s the cheque, plus the directions how to get to Evangeline. I wouldn’t take too long to decide about your trip. He could be quite desperately ill and you could arrive in a couple of months and be too late to meet him, and that would haunt you the rest of your life. Or you may get bowled over in the street and he would never get to meet you. He doesn’t deserve that.’

With sudden awareness Katriona said angrily, ‘You’re just trying to make me feel guilty and ashamed. You’re just trying to make me rush into a decision which I would regret. If my father was really seriously ill you would have said so immediately. That’s emotional blackmail, and it won’t work, and I think you’re despicable to stoop to such methods. Even if I wanted to I couldn’t leave my office at this particular time. I’ve given my word to Mr Drummond that I’ll stay until he retires, and that may be in two months or six months or a year.’

‘Come when you’re ready ...'

‘I’ll never be ready. I don’t want any complications in my life. You go back to New Zealand and forget you ever met me, and I’ll do my best to forget I’ve ever met you.’

Morgan stopped at the door and in one stride reached for her, his hands hard on her shoulders, 'You’ll never forget me, Katriona Carmichael, that’s a promise! And you’ll never forget why I came; that out there in New Zealand you have a living, breathing father who needs someone to love more than most. Out there on Evangeline you’ll have room to breathe, miles and miles of the most beautiful country in the world.’ He shook her roughly. ‘Don’t be too stubborn, little Red. I’ll go back and tell your father that he’s got a daughter so like him it’s ridiculous ... an attractive, utterly feminine version of a proud, stubborn, bad-tempered old man.’

He laughed suddenly at her indignant expression and his hands dropped to his sides. ‘I’ll tell him I tried everything in the book. If I thought it would work I’d make wild passionate love to you and promise to marry you when you got back to New Zealand.’

‘Don’t you dare try!’ Katriona backed away, her eyes smouldering with rage.

Morgan laughed again. 'No, thanks. When Ross sent me he didn’t order me to make this a suicide mission. See you at Evangeline.’

And he was gone.

Katriona stood in the same spot as he had left her, almost beside herself with temper, still feeling the pressure of his powerful hands on her shoulders. How conceited and arrogant he was! Did he think he only needed to make love to a girl, any girl, and she would chase him to the ends of the earth? Oh, Katriona wanted to shriek with rage, to have a tantrum, to somehow rid herself of all the unfamiliar emotions that Morgan Grant had triggered off in her neat and well planned existence. No man had the right to disturb her the way he had done.

No man had the right to literally take her breath away as Morgan Grant had done.

Gradually her fury lessened and her breathing became normal. She wandered over to her settee and sat down where he had been sitting and picked up the envelope he had left there. There was no doubt that this was his own handwriting, strong, bold and very masculine. Oh, yes, he was a man all right, from the tips of his well polished shoes to the thick dark curling hair on his very handsome head, and her tiny cramped apartment would never be the same now that he had been there. And she would never be the same ... she held the letter close to her, keeping it, holding it, treasuring it. Something of his.

She felt her cheeks bum as she realised where her thoughts were leading her. What if he had made love to her? Pain shot through her as she forced herself to be honest and admit she would have been wild with delight. Morgan Grant had some magic quality which drew people to him, and it was powerful magic. Look at the way Jeannie and Donald had been charmed by him, and Elspeth from the Lodge, and Shona and Morag, and silly, stupid, idiotic Katriona Carmichael. Glancing up, she caught sight of herself in the mirror, and it did not look like her at all. The girl in the mirror had a soft sweet mouth, and colour in her cheeks, and stars in her eyes. She looked like a girl in love ...

Katriona turned and flung herself down on the bed and cried as if her heart would break. She did not know why she was crying. Was she crying because she had found out she had a father? Or crying because she knew so little about him, and was scared of finding out more? Wasn’t it better to be happy with a dream father rather than find the reality? He might not like her. He might be just like her mother and only want her in his life when it suited him. The tears continued to flow unchecked, and Katriona knew why. It was because Morgan Grant had gone. He had gone away laughing. He would laugh all the harder if he knew that a silly little nobody like her was crying her heart out in a shabby little bedsitter, and dreaming impossible dreams. Why, anyone as good-looking and personable as Morgan Grant could have any girl he liked ... he wouldn’t waste a thought on her. She was just a job his employer had directed him to see to.

At last, Katriona lay quiet, completely exhausted. She was trying to picture him in her mind. Tall, virile and bronzed, an outdoor man with grey eyes that had a special far-seeing expression, grey eyes that could be laughing one moment and serious the next, and a shock of thick dark wavy hair, and his teeth were so white against his tanned face when he smiled ... and he smiled often.

Katriona finally pushed herself off her bed and went through to run a bath. It was foolish of her to waste time thinking about Morgan Grant, but she could not get him out of her mind. After her bath she had opened the envelope. Neatly printed on a card was his name and address: Morgan Grant, Evangeline Station, Lewis Pass Road, Private Bag, Christchurch,
and followed by the telephone Number 6820 Hanmer Springs. On the back of the card was written the cost of a first-class return air ticket plus a generous amount for expenses, and this matched the cheque. Also written were ‘Cable when you’re flying or ring when you arrive. See you soon. Morgan.’

‘Oh, no, you won’t, Morgan Grant,’ she muttered out loud as she crawled in between the sheets. She made up her mind resolutely not to think about him. Restlessly she tossed and turned, always the same picture forming of him sitting in a huge jet, his long legs stretched out comfortably, and that attractive smile on his face. She would never see him again if she did not go to New Zealand. And she
wanted
to see him again. She couldn’t go to New Zealand. He would think she was running after him. No, he wouldn’t because he thought she was going to marry Donald, so she was safe going over there. No, she would never be safe going near Morgan Grant. She was infatuated by him and it would be okay when she got over it, then she could safely fly to Evangeline. What a romantic name! Oh, who cared about being safe? She must be out of her mind. She must mail that cheque back to him tomorrow. Then she would start saving her money. She had quite a bit saved, but it would take her another six months or more to save enough for a return ticket and a few nice clothes. Her heart pounded with excitement at the thought.

She tried fixing her mind on her father, but she had so little to go on, and Morgan would not be relegated to second place in her thoughts. She buried her head under her pillow. It was lucky that she had at least six months or longer to get him out of her system. Probably in a month’s time she would hardly be able to remember what he looked like. In six months this whole episode would be forgotten.

She fell asleep.

Nearly nine months later Katriona sat tense in her seat as the huge jet lifted off with screaming engines on the first leg of her journey to New Zealand. She thought ruefully of her plan to forget about Morgan Grant in a month. There was no way that she could forget him. As the weeks and months passed she grew more and more angry with herself for being unable to drive him out of her thoughts. She had then thought perhaps she was making him too important, that if she let her mind travel back over his visit often enough it would lose its appeal and become so familiar it would be boring. It had not worked, and here she was feeling as if she was flying even a little ahead of the jet in a crazy desire to see him again.

She had not cabled that she was coming. She had no intention of ringing them up when she arrived in Christchurch. She was going to be completely independent and travel right out to the station under her own steam. She would not be beholden to them for anything, not the ticket nor even a ride from the airport. She had looked it up in a book on New Zealand, with maps and photographs, and discovered that Hanmer Springs, the nearest township to the station, was a holiday resort with ski fields, golf course, forest walks and horse riding as well as hot springs. There was not a lot of information about it, but enough for her to know that among all the visitors who came to swim in the sulphur pools for their health or to enjoy the other facilities she would go unnoticed.

She even had her ticket on a
bus to take her there, although she had not booked any accommodation. She felt quite well organised. She could stay there for a
few days and perhaps find out a
little about the station before going there. She had tried to find out about it from the library, but although they seemed to have quite a
lot of New Zealand material they had relatively little information about that area. From her map in the book of tourist resorts she could see where the station was on the Lewis Pass road, away up in the mountains, but that was all she could find out. She did not worry particularly, because she would learn all about it when she went there, if she liked it and if her father liked her; if not, what did it matter?

She had not slept much the week before she left. She had taken time out to visit Tiree and discuss her trip with Donald and Jeannie. She had not told them the whole truth, not the bit about her father ... that was too personal, and if he did not take to her, she would rather that they did not know she was rejected by her father as well as her mother. That would be too humiliating. They were so pleased for her and Donald promised to write at least once a week so that she would not feel homesick. It was very kind of him because it was very important to Katriona that regular letters would be arriving from Donald. Morgan Grant could not possibly suspect that she had any interest in him with Donald apparently so attentive.

She tried to relax but could not. The seats were comfortable, the food was delicious, the film entertaining, the stewardesses most thoughtful for her well-being, and even with all that unaccustomed luxury and attention she could feel the tension within her building up to fever pitch. After the stop-over in Singapore it was a direct flight to Auckland where she took her cases through Customs and boarded a smaller jet for Christchurch after a considerable wait.

As soon as she was seated she wanted to go to sleep. It was silly. She had not been able to sleep properly for weeks and the moment she arrived she was having a battle to keep her eyes open. The amicable lady in the seat next to her kept up a non-stop flow of conversation about her family and the conference to which she was travelling. Katriona wished she could take a polite interest, but kept drifting off to sleep only to wake with a fright a few seconds later. Suddenly she heard the name of her destination, Hanmer Springs.

She forced herself to concentrate. ‘You’re going to Hanmer Springs, did you say? So am I. Isn’t that a coincidence?’

The lady was enchanted. ‘Incredible! I wonder if the booking office knew and put us together deliberately ... oh, no, that’s highly unlikely. How are you getting out there from Christchurch? Are you going to the nurses’ conference too? By the way, my name is Sylvia Furness. And yours?’

‘Katriona Carmichael. I’m not going to your conference, I’m just going for a short holiday. I’m going up in a bus.’ She fished into her traveller’s wallet and produced the ticket. ‘Are you travelling on the same bus?’

Sylvia Furness shook her head emphatically. ‘No. Friends are picking me up at the airport. Say, they’ll have room for one more. You don’t want to hang around town for hours. Have you got much luggage?’

Bewildered at the turn of events, Katriona shook her head. ‘It’s very good of you, but I wouldn’t like to put you to any trouble.’

‘No trouble at all,’ Sylvia Furness assured her. ‘We’ll cancel your bus reservation and you’ll be in Hanmer hours ahead of the bus. I’ll organise the whole thing.’

Katriona felt it required too much effort to argue. Sylvia Furness was very kindhearted, but she much preferred to keep to her own arrangements. Unwillingly she gave way and then gave up the struggle to stay awake.