She sat down. The doctor took the pledget of cotton wool from the hollow of the inside of her elbow, put a piece of plaster on it.
“You’ll do,” he said. Grant thought they were overcasual.
Sarah said, laughing, “How many cups of tea have we had today, Grant? I’d be too ashamed to count them!”
The matron, coming in to say Mrs. Granger was now settled nicely, said, “Well, Sister, aren’t you a glutton for work? First broken arms, then twins! You must have a flair for unorthodox adventure.”
The doctor said, more seriously, “You did a darned good job. It was touch and go with mother and baby. Where did you train?”
Sarah told him, aware that Grant, as answer followed answer, was beginning to see her in her professional capacity, instead of as a nuisance, a problem.
The doctor said tactlessly, “You’ll not want to be out of your profession for long. We could use you anywhere in New Zealand.”
Sarah said, “Yes. I’d love it more than anything, but my hands are tied. I’m in exactly the same position as a widow with small children. I’d have preferred to stay in England, but I had no home for my brother and sister, not even the sort of job where I could have them with me, I mean a nine-to-five one.”
“Oh, well,” said the doctor, “this has been a happy solution.”
Happy solution! If he only knew! Sarah looked up, caught Grant’s eye. She thought his look was as wryly amused as hers.
Grant stood up. “Well, my partner may look as fresh as a daisy, but she must be about all in ... three hours’ sleep or less last night, shearers all day, and tomorrow too ... delivering twins in between, and donating blood ... come on, Sarah Isbister, home we go. Tell Gordon I’ll return him his station wagon tomorrow, will you, Doc? Goodnight, all.”
He was unexpectedly solicitous, settled her comfortably, took one of the blankets they had wrapped Nan in, tucked it around her, for it was cooler now.
“I must look after my chief cook and bottle-washer,” he said. Sarah thought ruefully that that was probably all it meant.
He said, as they left the township behind, “You didn’t let on you were so worried about Nan. I take it she had haemorrhaged rather badly?”
“Yes ... I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want Nan to panic. It’s a terrible thought for a mother if she thinks she might slip away from life and leave a little family. And I was worried about the baby girl.”
The light fell behind, and suddenly the velvet peace of the countryside was all about them. There were no stars, no moon. It seemed to settle with cat-footed pressure on Sarah’s eyelids, soft but irresistible. She tried to struggle up, to withstand the warm tide of sleepiness that threatened to engulf her. She heard Grant say, sounding, in her drowsiness, a long way off:
“Have forty winks on the way home—don’t struggle against it.” She felt his arm ease her into a more comfortable position, and as she slid over the cliff of sleep, thought he must have pulled one of the pillows under her head.
She did not wake till the station wagon stopped inside one of the big sheds near the garage. She came up from the deeps of exhausted slumber slowly, unable to remember where she was. The pillow still seemed to be there, but not a linen-covered pillow ... it felt tweedy, and there was a tobaccoey aroma clinging to it. She turned her head, burrowing into it, and was suddenly aware of someone’s breath on her face.
She blinked in the uncertain light that came into the shed from the outside standard in the farmyard. It lit the yard, but did not reach into shadowy corners. She thought confusedly that she must still be dreaming, because Grant’s face was only an inch or so away from hers, and his eyes held nothing but tenderness. Sarah knew a great leap of the heart, a quickening of the pulses, that suddenly brought her completely awake, aware that she had been sleeping on Grant Alexander’s shoulder.
The next moment a warning bell rang in her mind. Be careful, Sarah, he may think, later, that you’re trying to win his admiration, trying to worm your way into his good graces. Give him no chance to think such a thing.
Grant said, “Sorry to disturb you, Sarah, you’ve certainly earned a sleep ...” he hesitated, still looking down on her, and added, “From now on you’ll find yourself one of the community. They’ve been stand-offish, I know ... seeing you as I did ... as a gold-digger, an opportunist, but—”
Sarah didn’t wait to hear the rest, didn’t want to hear Grant reluctantly admit she had her uses, that she might have qualities that would redeem her action in taking the reparation Duncan had offered. It wouldn’t last; doubts would keep coming back, intensified every time half the profits from the farm were paid into her account. Sarah was not going to invite insult twice ... yes, and heartache too ...
So Sarah lifted her head from its resting-place, drew back a little, looked at him with bitter eyes and said:
“Really, men are gullible. You ought to be more cautious ... your first opinion might be the correct one. Can’t you conceive that seeing you saw in my looks only a snare and a delusion, I might be trying to appeal to you in a different way? The way to a man’s heart could be in cooking for his shearers ... taking advantage of every domestic crisis to worm my way in ... not caring tuppence how you see me ... hot and shiny after bending over the stove, or unglamorous in a sack apron, scrubbing the kitchen floor!”
His grip tightened, tightened till it hurt. “Sarah Isbister ... you witch of a girl! The head of a Norse goddess ... tongue like a shrew ... tell me, tell me honestly, without any of the cheap sarcasm that so ill becomes you ... have you been trying to appeal to me in that way?”
The curl to Sarah’s lip was unmistakable even in that poor light.
“No! I shouldn’t take the trouble, for you. Keep your admiration, Mr. Alexander. I’d sooner have your enmity!”
She felt curiously deflated that he spoke nothing in reply. He simply released her, got out, went round, punctiliously opened the door for her.
As she walked out of the garage he said with no expression in his voice, “Tell Bill and Ben I’m going straight over to the quarters, will you? Goodnight, Miss Isbister.”
When she was alone in her bedroom the tears came. Just tears of sheer weariness, she told herself. Not tears of regret, of remorse for words foolishly spoken, for having rejected an olive-branch. But what did the loss of Grant Alexander’s friendship mean to her? Nothing. She wouldn’t even let it disturb her.
Odd then that, despite her exhaustion, she slept only fitfully
CHAPTER SIX
By next morning, Sarah would have given anything to have been able to recall those words, spoken in a sudden surge of bitterness for all that had happened to her since Grant’s uncle had come into her life. However, there was no time to dwell upon that. Sarah supposed that was why work was so good for you, didn’t give you time to brood.
Evidently Grant Alexander had his pride too, and did not intend to let his men know they were at odds, so outwardly he was courteous and cooperative, helping her dish out the huge dinners, joining in the small talk and hearty banter that passed to and fro; but when his eyes met hers there was something hard and despising in them that made Sarah flinch. She had sent the children to school. With no bread to bake she felt she could cope.
The men had heard about the doings of the night before and were teasing their employer.
“Come lambing-time, boss, you’ll have a great time ... There’ll be rows of bassinets in all the paddocks, the ewe lambs will be wearing pink bows and the ram lambs blue!” He took it all in good part. Because of that, because this was much what Sarah would have expected had she not flared up last night, she felt like a small hot-tempered child whose tantrum is being ignored.
Gordon Granger came across in the afternoon to return Grant’s car, and to thank Sarah for what she had done.
“From what the doctor tells me, he’d have found it a difficult birth himself. Certainly the wee girl wouldn’t have survived without expert attention, and it would have been touch and go with Nancy. She says to tell you we’re going to call them Grant and Sarah after you both. And we’d like you to be the godparents.”
The bright, betraying color ran up into Sarah’s cheeks.
She stammered, “Oh, Mr. Granger! You might have other names picked ... names you’d rather have, names you thought of beforehand. There’s no need to—”
Her partner cut in. “Thanks, Gordon. I’d appreciate that very much. It’s an honor. And of course we’ll be godparents.”
To Sarah when Gordon had gone, he said, “Even if the thought of being linked with me in the service as a godparent is distasteful, you needn’t show it. Nan and Gordon are trying to show how they feel about the help we gave, in the most complimentary way possible ... and they haven’t any idea how we—how we feel about each other! I don’t intend the whole neighborhood to know we’re at loggerheads and gossip about it. We’ll put the best face possible on it ... do you hear?”
Sarah’s tone was icy. “Of course I hear. Anyone within a hundred yards could hear.”
It was petty, and she knew it. Grant Alexander had not really raised his voice. It was low and intense.