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‘Ross accepts Katriona as his daughter, and Katriona accepts Ross as her father, so you’ll have to bow to the inevitable, Carla.’ Morgan was quite firm.

‘I’ll not accept her. Where’s Ross?’ Carla demanded, her voice like a whiplash.

‘In Christchurch, flying North for a week. His last order was for me to look after his daughter. Katriona, I would like you to meet Carla Grayson, Ross’s niece.’

Carla stormed forward. ‘Where did you spring from? Why haven’t we heard of you before now?’

Katriona eyed her steadily. ‘I haven’t heard of you before either, but I believe you’re Ross’s niece.’

‘Don’t you come smart with me, girl! You may have fooled this lot, but you’ll have to work a lot harder to convince me. When did you arrive?’

‘This afternoon,’ Katriona answered with studied care, hoping the other girl would not sense how nervous she was.

‘Good God! You calmly walk in here and announce that you’re Ross’s daughter and he falls on your neck. You’ve got
nerve
!’ Carla’s tone was venomous.

‘I hope so.’

Morgan spoke sharply. 'That will do, Carla. We’re not stupid. I met Katriona when I was in Scotland last year.’

Carla exploded. ‘You ... you miserable creep! So you’re behind it all. You’ve been sitting on this ... gloating over it, for a year, have you? Well, you won’t get away with it, I can promise you that. I’m off to see Ross. I know what you’re up to, but it won’t work. Of all the devious, underhand, contemptible ... And you, whatever your name is, don’t get too comfortable in your new role. It won’t be long before you’re on your way back from wherever they dug you out from! ’

Carla snatched up her bag and whirled out of the room. Seconds later they heard the motor of her car spring to life, then saw the flash of headlights as she turned and drove past the house, then silence.

‘Aw! She didn’t drink her coffee,’ said Gary with mock concern.

Katriona felt quite sick and shaken, her face was pale and her blue eyes wide with shock. It had been an incredible scene, especially in that friendly relaxed atmosphere.

‘Your comments didn’t help the situation, Gary.’ Morgan sounded slightly ruffled. He touched Katriona sympathetically on the shoulder. ‘Sorry about that, Katriona, it was inexcusable, but Carla lives on her nerves.’

Mrs Niven stood up and stated vigorously, ‘You’re wrong, Morgan. Carla lives on everyone else’s nerves, and mine more than most. You’ll have to excuse me, I’m off to bed. And please, Katriona, don’t feel troubled by Carla, each of us here has felt the rough edge of her tongue, Jeff, Gary, and myself ... and when she’s feeling lucky, Morgan.’

The warm understanding smile Mrs Niven gave Katriona eased a little the tightness in her chest. ‘I’ll go with you. I’ve had a long day too.’

‘But I wanted to have a bit of a talk with you,’ Morgan protested. ‘There’s a few things I’d like to explain.’

‘They’ll keep.’ Katriona replied wearily. ‘You could have warned me, but you didn’t. Goodnight.’ She followed Mrs Niven to the door before she remembered the boys. ‘Goodnight, Jeff, Gary.’

They were on their feet instantly. ‘Goodnight.’ Then Gary spoke again. ‘We’re glad you came. We’ll see you enjoy yourself.’

‘They’re nice boys,’ Mrs Niven commented. ‘Like most of the Americans we get here they have lovely manners.’

‘Do you get many?’ Katriona asked, not really caring.

‘Quite a few. A sort of feedback from when Morgan went over to the States as a Field scholar.’

‘I’ll say goodnight, Mrs Niven, and thanks for your kindness,’ said Katriona as she reached her door. She did not want any further talk. There had been too many words already today.

It
was still dark when Katriona woke next morning, and she lay quietly trying to orientate herself. A wave of exhilaration swept over her as she remembered she was at Evangeline, her father’s station—all sixty-three thousand acres of it, with mountains, lakes, rivers and streams. She pressed her digital watch and saw the time was only five-fifteen. She slipped from her bed and in the half light pulled on her shirt and bib-styled overalls, her fingers fumbling and shaking as she clipped the huge shiny clasps. She shivered, not knowing whether it was from cold or excitement. She added a heavy Scottish sweater and slipped her feet into rope sandals, then crept outside hoping not to wake anyone.

Once in the yard she could see the lights on in the wool-shed and made her way towards them, climbing once more over the padlocked gate. Ahead of her was another gate under the tall dark plantations and although she longed to explore she was a little afraid of getting lost. She would wait until daylight. Through the fence in front of the woolshed were sheep grazing by a small building. It was painted green with a white door and it beckoned. The sheep scattered in alarm as she made her way to the step and sat down hugging her knees. She smiled as the sheep inched forward to peer at her curiously for a few minutes before making up their minds that she was entirely harmless, and they resumed their original positions in a semi-circle near her, nonchalantly chewing.

Her eyes lifted to the twin peaks of the mountain across the river. She could not see the Hope River, just the sheer bluff walls above it, but she knew it was there, that liquid silver ribbon winding its way through the gorge. Native bush ran in tongues down the gullies by it and higher up were the plateaux which gave away again to more bush and shingle slides, and right near the peak of the hill was a fanshaped crater. To her delight she saw one pale star pinning the early dawn sky above the twin peaks.

Then came the plaintive haunting cry of the kea. She had heard it last evening when Tim had stopped by the cage on his way to the stockyards. He said it called each morning at dawn and in the late evening. Suddenly a flock of sparrows flew over her head, like a squadron of tiny jets dark against the yellow brown mountains. Katriona followed their flight until they disappeared behind the trees by the silo. Then as if they were only pathfinders, flock after flock followed, some of twenties, some of hundreds. Well, they seemed to know where they were going and she envied them.

Slowly she looked around her nearer to hand. There was the huge woolshed with the light streaming through the windows. It had stained dark brown wooden walls, with a green-painted roof and the window sashes neatly outlined in white. She could just see the top of another station roof painted green, with the white vee of the eaves showing and a white chimney to the right of the woolshed. Who lived there? She wanted to meet them, to know what work they did on the station, how long they’d lived here and did they love it too?

The sheep yards were empty, neat, well kept and functional, as was everything she had seen on Evangeline—all spoke of care, good planning and excellent management. That meant thinking of Morgan. And that was bad, because she had resolved not to think of Morgan, and more especially not to think of Morgan and Carla ... She would blank him right out of her mind and concentrate on getting to know Evangeline. That was what her father had told her to do. Certainly he had said Morgan could be the key ... but he did not have to be the only key.

Her father!
It was true that she had got over the surprise that she actually did have a father, but he had just been a nebulous figure in her mind until yesterday afternoon.

What a man! There was a power in him, strength of character, and integrity—yes, she could feel all these. She did not doubt that he could be hard, even cruel, but the sudden change to humour and charm had really surprised her. A man used to getting his own way always, ruthless, maybe ... Morgan was like that too ...

Damn Morgan Grant! There he was getting in the road of her thought patterns again. But he was like her father in some ways, a younger version, but just as hard, just as steellike and determined. She knew that was the truth. She just had one month to get to know them, these two men who had made such a vivid impression on her. Her pulses raced at the prospect of the mental stimulation involved in trying to discover what made them what they were. It would be a real challenge indeed, because she could feel in each of them a depth which would be hard to fathom. They would keep their inner selves hidden from her, she had no doubt. She would do her best to learn about them, and then she would leave, never to return.

Thirty days only, not long, but it had to last her a lifetime. She must not stay longer, not one day longer than that, or it would prove her undoing. She shivered. Morgan Grant must never know why she had travelled so far to see him. He must always believe she only wanted to meet her father. He must always believe that she was going back to Tiree to marry Donald. She was only safe as long as he thought that... safe, a strange word to set her heart pounding the way it had last night when he held her in his arms.

‘It that all you’ve got to do? You’ll never learn about the station sitting dreaming and watching the sun come up.’

Katriona jumped nervously as she recognised Morgan’s voice. She felt the colour stain her cheeks. ‘My father said to get the feel of the place, and that’s what I was doing until you came along and disturbed me.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry I disturb you, Katriona,’ he mocked lightly.

'You do
not
disturb me,’ Katriona replied furiously. ‘You disturb the peace and quiet of the morning, that’s what I meant.’

Her bright blue eyes flashed sparks as she looked up at him, only to flicker away from the lean masculine face with the teasing grey eyes which seemed to read her every thought. Dear God, was she so transparent! She bit her bottom lip hard as she bent her head, pretending to adjust her sandal, and heard him chuckle.

A sharp whistle made her look across at the iron gate, where a
shepherd sat for a moment with his four dogs below him, then he dropped to the ground and walked over to open the yard gate while one dog snaked around the sheep by the cottage. Katriona listened and watched entranced as he worked his dog with a series of whistles. She heard him call, ‘Wayleggo Fan’, and his dog came to heel, then he sent another two out and seconds later all the sheep were penned.

As she looked back to the gate she saw a large red truck being driven through it and backed up to the woolshed. A man appeared high up in a loft doorway shouting, ‘Clear that barley off the deck’, and seconds later started heaving down sheepskins to the young man below.

Then a large modem car swung through the gateway and round the front of the truck and pulled up by the yards, and half a
dozen athletic-looking men climbed out, laughing and talking. Suddenly there was noise and movement everywhere, and Katriona felt her eyes weren’t big enough to hold it all.

‘The shearers arriving to do the crutching,’ Morgan said quietly.

Katriona glanced up in surprise to find him still standing there. She had forgotten him completely. He was not smiling now, just watching her intently, his whole attention riveted on her reactions, yet from the top of his dark head to the soles of his boots he appeared relaxed. It was only then that she became aware that he was stripped to the waist like the shearers. He wore only grey shorts and heavy woollen socks and boots, and the sun shone a
golden glow on his deeply tanned body highlighting the broad sinewy torso, the tapering hips and long muscular legs, giving him the likeness of an athlete sculptured in bronze, a perfect study.

‘I’ve missed the sunrise,’ Katriona cried.

‘There’ll be other mornings.’ He spoke sympathetically as if he understood her loss.

‘Twenty-nine.’ Katriona met his gaze now. Her blue eyes were steady and direct, free from embarrassment. ‘Only twenty-nine.’ She turned to the east where the sun struck bright in a blue blue sky, silhouetting the line of tall slender poplars and turning golden the tussock-clad hills.

‘Why?’ Morgan’s tone was sharp, demanding an answer.

‘I must leave at the end of the month.’

‘Donald’s orders?’ Sarcasm was heavy in his voice.

‘My own,’ Katriona replied tersely. They had been so close, just for a second, and now she was angry and resentful again. He seemed to be able to play on her moods as an expert violinist plays on a Stradivarius.

A truck stopped by the gate near the pines and a man hopped down to hold it open. They drove through, followed by someone on a motor-bike, then another motorbike with a cage trailer holding dogs. They all waved and Katriona and Morgan waved back. Another van and another motor-bike went through before the gate was closed.

'Where are they all going? Do they all work here?’ Katriona asked.

‘Yes, they all work here. They’re going up the lane which runs through the farm. The first were the fencing contractors who are heading up on the hill to fence the new deer block, the second lot were a
shepherd with his dogs going for more sheep, then the head tractor driver and the last one another tractor driver.’

‘Haven’t they got any names?’ Katriona demanded indignantly.

‘Oh, yes, little Red, they’ve all got names, and you can talk with them and find out who they are, what their work is, and each piece of information you gather will help you learn about your father’s station, and about him, because his station is his heart and his heart is Evangeline.’

‘And your heart, where is it?’ Katriona was appalled to hear herself ask.

Morgan laughed. 'You do want all the answers, Katriona Carmichael, but that’s one you’ll have to work out for yourself. It will take you a while, believe me.’

Katriona was furious with herself, shocked that she could have been so stupid. So much for subtlety! ‘It really doesn’t interest me all that much,’ she remarked in what she hoped was a detached manner.

‘My, what big blue eyes you have! ’ Morgan was taunting her again. ‘Do you know that the eyes are the windows of the soul?’

Immediately her long dark lashes fanned her cheeks, but she could not control the blush which dyed her cheeks. She could have cheerfully murdered him. If only she had not restricted her private life so drastically she might have been practised in hiding her emotions, instead of feeling completely naked. She would hopefully improve as the days went on, but at this very moment she wanted to put some distance between herself and Morgan. It was vital he did not discover her susceptibility to him.