The Ultimate Choice

'But… surely the stable-hand said something?' Kelly cried, bursting to know the best… or the worst.

'No more than I've told you.'

'Nothing about Rasputin?'

'Not a word!' Her grandfather grinned again. 'Reckon he's capitulated, Kelly.'

The Justin St Johns of the world did not capitulate, she thought grimly.

Yet he seemed to have accepted her advice about the physiotherapy he needed. Completely perplexed by the man, Kelly looked at her grandfather for his advice.

'Don't look three gift horses in the mouth, Kelly,' he said with an encouraging chuckle. 'Go to it, girl. Who knows what might happen next?'

'That's true enough!' Kelly said with feeling. 'I'll go and get changed.'

'Just like old times,' her grandfather said with happy satisfaction.

But it couldn't be quite the same without Rasputin. And Kelly wasn't at all sure what game Justin St John was playing with this open-handed gesture. Or was it a trick? she wondered as she stripped off her work clothes and pulled on her riding gear.

Perhaps it was his way of pressuring her to accept the bargain he had offered this morning. Showing her his good faith, and expecting her to respond with the return of Rasputin. If so, he could think again, Kelly determined stubbornly. As far as she was concerned, there were no strings attached. And she would play it that way until otherwise informed.

She took all three horses down to the practice field. She set the grey and the chestnut free to graze while she gave the palomino a work-out over the jumps. Rapunzel was willing enough, and game, but she didn't have the black stallion's ability in jumping. Nevertheless, Kelly enjoyed encouraging the good-natured mare. When she managed all the jumps without knocking a rail, Kelly laughed from sheer elation.

It was then that she saw the man watching her from the fence which edged the pine forest. Although he was too far away for Kelly to discern his features, she knew instinctively that it was Justin St John. Still exuberant over her success with Rapunzel, Kelly waved to him.

He did not wave back.

Kelly was tempted to ride up to him, but even from this distance there was a forbidding look about him which suggested she wouldn't be welcomed. He was probably watching to see if she broke her foolish neck, Kelly decided. It would support her cause more if she kept on riding and showed him how wrong he was.

He watched her until she had taken all three horses through their paces. When she started to lead them up towards the stables, he moved away from the fence and disappeared into the pine forest, making it very clear that he had nothing more to say to her at this time.

Kelly smothered her disappointment with the hope that he would keep his nine o'clock appointment in her office tomorrow. Having seen how capable a horse-woman she was, perhaps he would be more reasonable about Rasputin.

Arlene Moffat echoed the same opinion when Kelly related the latest developments over the Moffats' breakfast-table the next morning. The black stallion had performed like a dream for her, and Kelly's resolve not to part with him had been immeasurably hardened by the morning's ride.

However, when Justin St John entered her office at five minutes to nine, he carried a distinctly unapproachable air with him.

'Good morning,' he said, coolly polite. 'Same room?'

'Yes,' said Kelly, choking up from his hard unrelenting manner. Why couldn't he smile, at her?

It wasn't until he was on the table, ready for more treatment, that she screwed up the courage to speak again. 'Thank you for letting me have the horses back,' she rushed out.

The grey eyes stabbed at her. 'I don't want your thanks. You know my feelings on the matter. It was simply the lesser of two evils,' he stated curtly.

He didn't mention Rasputin.

Kelly didn't either, deciding that discretion was the better part of valour on that sore point.

He watched her ride again that afternoon… a dark, brooding figure leaning on the fence, waiting for her to have an accident. Kelly rode particularly well, controlling every move of her mount with exhilarating ease. She liked Justin St John watching her. It lent a marvellous sharpness to every moment.

Eventually he would bend, she kept telling herself. He cared about her, just as she cared about him. She was certain of it.

Judge Moffat's car was parked outside the house when she got home. It was chess night again. Kelly heard her grandfather's voice raised in umbrage as she crossed the veranda, and wondered what had upset him. She hurried into the kitchen where the two men were sitting over their supper.

'What are you on about, Grandpa?' she asked. He had obviously worked himself up about something.

'Kelly, I took the lambs up to Mrs Ryan this afternoon, just like I always do. She said Justin St John didn't want more than four each week any more. That he wanted some beef for a change.' His eyes almost smoked with outrage. 'I'm going to have to run beef-cattle with the sheep!'