‘Peter Robbins said that you were originally from this area,’ she said instead. ‘What made you go to Brisbane in the first place?’
‘Personal reasons,’ said Cal, taciturn.
‘So…er…how do you feel about coming back?’
He stared at her. ‘What do you mean, how do I feel?’
‘I mean, how do you feel?’ snapped Juliet. ‘Are you happy to be back? Are you sad to leave friends behind in the city? Are you worried about working for a woman?’ She sighed. ‘You’re not very forthcoming, are you?’
What did she think this was, a cocktail party? ‘I don’t see that it matters,’ said Cal, equally exasperated. ‘If I were looking for a station manager, I wouldn’t waste my time asking him how he felt, I’d want to know what he could do. If we have to go through this farce, why don’t you try asking me something relevant?’
‘I’ve been trying to find out something about your experience,’ said Juliet angrily.
‘Experience of what?’ he asked with an impatient shrug. ‘A station manager’s got to be able to do more than sit in an office and manage.’
‘OK,’ she said, tight-lipped. ‘What would you ask, since you seem to know so much about it?’
‘If I was employing a manager? I’d want to know if he could fly a plane and drive a road-train. Could he build a dam and fix a generator and sink a bore? Did he understand accounts? And that’s before all the obvious stuff like mustering, roping cattle, catching bulls, castrating, branding, dehorning, building fences—’
‘All right, all right!’ Juliet interrupted him. ‘You’ve made your point. Do I take it you can do all that?’ she went on, not without some sarcasm, and he looked her straight in the eye.
‘You’ll find that out over the next three months, won’t you?’
Juliet’s dark blue eyes kindled dangerously, and her chin went up as she glared back at him. ‘I don’t see any point in having a trial at all if your attitude doesn’t change,’ she said sharply. ‘You have made absolutely no effort to be co-operative, or even courteous, since you arrived. Instead you’ve made it plain that you think I know nothing about running a station.’
Cal opened his mouth, but she swept on before he had a chance to speak. ‘Well, that may be true, but one thing I do know is that I’m not prepared to pay good money for a manager who’s going to talk to me as if I’m stupid! I’m an intelligent woman trying to deal with an extremely difficult situation. I want a manager who can build this station up, run it efficiently and take the time to explain to me what he’s doing and why, so that I can learn eventually to run it myself.
‘Now, the last manager here couldn’t be bothered to do that. He made the mistake of thinking that my opinion didn’t count,’ Juliet went on grimly, ‘so I sacked him.’ She fixed Cal with a look, and he was annoyed to find himself noticing how the temper flashing in her eyes had banished that wary, nervous look, leaving her suddenly vivid. Roused out of her brittle poise, she was a force to be reckoned with—and more attractive than he had realised.
‘And I’ll sack you,’ she was saying, ‘if you forget for one minute that I’m the boss round here. This is my property. I’m prepared to pay whatever it takes for someone to help me, but I’m sure as hell not going to pay to be patronised!’
The expression in Cal’s grey eyes was hard to read. If he felt embarrassed or ashamed or intimidated by her outburst, he was certainly giving no sign of it. He wasn’t the kind of man she could imagine being intimidated by anything, Juliet thought with an inward sigh.
‘I just thought we should know where we stood,’ she finished lamely, when Cal didn’t say anything. ‘It’s better to be clear about things from the beginning.’
Cal looked at her. ‘The only thing that’s clear to me is that you want a manager, a miracle-worker, a slave and a teacher all rolled into one,’ he said sardonically. ‘I could tell just driving along the track how much work needs to be done here. If I’m going to run this place properly, I won’t have time to explain everything to you.’
‘I’m not asking for a minute by minute account,’ said Juliet. ’I won’t be able to spend much time with you with two small children to look after. But I want to know what’s going on, and I want to learn what I can.’
‘And when you’ve learnt what you can?’
‘Then you’ll be out of a job,’ she said with a direct look. ‘But I’m not a fool. I know how long that will take me, so the job is secure for a while yet, if that’s what’s worrying you.’
It wasn’t security that was worrying Cal, it was the realisation that Juliet Laing was going to be trickier to deal with than he had anticipated. He had expected a spoilt, helpless widow, all ready to be persuaded—in the nicest possible way—that her only option was to sell up and go back to England where she belonged, but the more he looked at Juliet, the less persuadable she seemed. There was a wilful set to that lovely mouth, a stubborn tilt to her chin, a steadiness in the deep blue eyes that was almost unsettling.
Well, he didn’t have a reputation for handling difficult horses for nothing, Cal thought. At least he was here, in the best position to influence her to give up and to step forward with the money to buy his station back when she finally accepted the inevitable. He would have to be careful not to antagonise her too much at this stage. It might go against the grain to kow-tow to a woman like Juliet Laing, but she had already sacked one manager, and he wouldn’t put it past her to replace him with another man who might be quick to spot the advantages of the situation. Attractive, single women with half a million acres at their disposal weren’t that easy to come by. Who was to say some other manager might not decide that he might as well make his position permanent by marrying Juliet and getting a cattle station thrown in as part of the bargain?
Cal’s mouth set into a hard line at the thought. He would never get Wilparilla back if that happened. No, he would have to grit his teeth and take Juliet’s orders for now, but he would make sure she understood how hopeless her situation was, and with any luck she would soon be gone.
‘All right,’ he said at last. ‘As long as you don’t want a detailed report in triplicate every day, I’ll let you know what’s going on.’
Anyone would think he was doing her a favour! Juliet suppressed a sigh. It was hardly the most gracious acceptance of her terms, but she suspected that it was all she was going to get. ‘OK,’ she said.
‘So, have I passed the interview?’ Cal asked, and she stiffened at the sarcastic edge to his voice. She would have loved to have told him to go back to Brisbane, but she was desperate for a manager, and Cal knew it. It could take weeks to find another manager, and she couldn’t afford to wait any longer. The station was already falling apart before her eyes as it was. And although he might rub her up the wrong way, there was no denying that he looked reassuringly capable and competent. Now he would have to prove it.
‘You’ve passed the interview, yes,’ she told him with a cool look. ‘We’ll see how things work out over the next three months. Needless to say, the trial period we agreed works both ways. If you don’t like working for me, you’re free to leave whenever you like.’
So she didn’t think he’d last the course, did she? Cal smiled grimly to himself as he picked up his hat and got to his feet. Juliet Laing might be tougher than she looked, but they would see who left Wilparilla first!
‘Whatever you say,’ he drawled, and then added after a pause that made the word sound somehow insulting, ‘boss.’
Cal had evidently decided to put an end to the discussion, thought Juliet, vaguely resentful, but as she could hardly order him to sit down again, she stood up too and forced a smile.
‘Now we’ve got over the formalities, would you like a beer?’
He