The Rouseabout Girl Read Online Free PDF

come back to town!’
    Flicking a swift glance towards Jard’s uncommunicative face, however, she wasn’t so sure on that point. Aloud she said smilingly, ‘I’ll take your word for it!’
    Sandy went on to describe life in the country region for which they were bound, but Lanie was scarcely aware of what he was saying. There was something about Jard that was definitely disturbing, especially when she found herself pressed close to his lean muscular body, conscious in spite of herself of a masculine magnetism that operated regardless of her positive loathing for the man! With an effort she wrenched her random thoughts aside and tried to concentrate on Sandy’s voice. What was he saying? Something about her new job?
    ‘You’ll get along fine and if you have any problems, Clara will soon sort them out for you.’
    ‘Clara?’ she queried.
    ‘She’s our housekeeper, and a jolly - good sort too. She’s been with us for donkey’s years.’
    ‘Oh!’ Her thoughts were busy. A housekeeper and a cook! Somehow it didn’t line up with the cottage on the farm.
    ‘She’s one of the family, just about,’ Sandy was saying, and Lanie gave a sigh of relief. Clara was no doubt a family friend who had made her home with them and to whom they had given the nominal title of housekeeper. For a moment there she had known a prickle of apprehension.
    All at once it occurred to her that she didn’t know anything, not anything, of what she was letting herself in for at the end of this journey, not for sure that is. A glance towards Jard’s clean-cut profile did nothing to ease her misgivings. Plainly he was furious about her being taken on to work for him and his father and wasn’t troubling to hide his displeasure. Lanie wasn’t all that keen on the idea of the new job herself, not since she had learned of the antipathy of Sandy’s ‘partner’. What had he expected? A portly motherly type of woman with her hair in a bun and no make-up? She giggled to herself. At least the last two attributes applied to her! Her mercurial spirits rose. And then there was Sandy, she had a champion in him. Something told her that for some reason she didn’t understand, Jard’s opposition in the matter of her employment had no effect whatever on his father. On the contrary.
    They sped on, passing at intervals small townships with their scattering of houses on either side of the main road. The hot sun was making spangles on the windscreen and everywhere was the dry scent of wildflowers and summer. Soon they were in sight of the little town of Te Kauwhata with its roadside stalls of luscious fruit, purple grapes, big yellow peaches, apples and pears. ‘No need to stop here,’ Sandy told her, ‘there’s swags of fruit in the orchard at home—kiwi fruit, avocado pears, the lot!’
    ‘Sounds fantastic!’ Privately the thought went through her mind that she would need a lot more than a supply of fresh fruit to compensate for working for the man with his hands on the driving wheel.
    Presently they dropped down a slope to follow the course of the Waikato river, wide and clear with its moored sand barges and willow-shaded banks.
    All at once they were in sight of bush-covered hills piercing the limpid blue of the sky and she knew they were approaching the town of Ngaruawahia with its swiftly-flowing river and high hills. On the highest peak of all was the burial place of Maori kings. It was as they approached the long graceful bridge spanning the swiftly-flowing green depths below that Lanie caught an unusual sound in the car motor. An enquiring glance in Sandy’s direction brought the response that he too had noticed it.
    ‘It’s been missing on and off for a while,’ Jard told her. ‘Could be the coil’s not doing its job, but it’s more likely to be the ignition.’ He was pulling in to the side of the road as he spoke and cars and trucks sped past them.
    Lanie watched as the two men got out of the vehicle and Jard flung open the bonnet