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Authors: Kay Thorpe

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BOOK: The man at Kambala
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Sara's reactions were mixed. She was curious about Steve York's young sister, she had to admit, but she wasn't at all sure that she would welcome the company of a girl of her own age who'd spent the last three years in such a totally different background. If Jill was anything like her brother they'd probably be daggers drawn inside the first hour.

`Why are you asking me?' she murmured. 'You've a perfect right to bring anyone you like out here while you're the boss.'

He raised his eyes heavenward. 'You know, you'd try the patience of a saint ! I'm asking you because I don't want trouble later on. Jill can stand up for herself

all right, but she'd prefer not to have to. What I want to know is would you be prepared to welcome her without bringing out the beads and rattles?'

`Can't I even mutter a few incantations?'

`I've muttered more than a few since I got here.' He sounded distinctly exasperated. 'Just make up your mind which way you're going to blow and stick to it, will you?'

`Sorry.' She put on a penitent expression. 'I'll welcome your sister with open arms, if that's what you want. Does your family live in England?'

`There isn't any family. Just Jill and me.' He put the glass down, straightened away from the cabinet. 'I'll start making arrangements in the morning. She could come through on next week's supply plane.' His hand went down to ease the wet material away from his calves. 'If I don't get out of these soon they'll be drying on me. Come on, I'll see you safely tucked away first.'

Sara came abruptly to her feet. 'I'm past being tucked in, thanks.'

`Sure.' He sounded amused. 'In a manner of speaking, you're a big girl now. But so far as I'm concerned you're still a babe, so you can forget any doubts you might be getting about me in that direction. I like my women over twenty-five, and willing.'

`And preferably married too, I'll bet,' she flashed, stung. 'Single ones might get too many ideas !'

`You might have a point there. Not behind the door altogether, are you, poppet?' He grinned as her eyes blazed. 'Go on, scoot, while I'm still in a good mood'

Sara went, shutting both doors behind her as loudly as she dared, half hoping that he would come after her to find the bolt already shot on hers. Poppet indeed!

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

THERE was no further mention of Jill York's impending visit over the following few days. Steve was out on patrol soon after breakfast, not returning until late into the afternoon. Used to the freedom she had enjoyed prior to her father's departure, Sara found the restrictions placed upon her movements irksome 'to a degree, particularly when Ted refused to give her the keys to - the gun rack.

`Sorry,' he said blandly. 'The boss said as you'd be having company on all your jaunts you wouldn't need it for the present.'

`I've never needed it yet,' she returned crossly. 'I'm just used to having it with me. I'll bet you wouldn't get him moving very far without a gun to hand.'

`No, well, it's a bit different, isn't it?' was the unmoved reply. I'm not risking another chewing out like that fast one. If you want to argue the point you do it with Steve.'

`All right, I will,' she said. She wouldn't, and she knew that Ted knew she wouldn't. Arguing any point with Steve was totally futile where she was concerned.

She spent the whole of one day with Kimani looking for a certain herd of elephant he had spotted from the air, and on the next had one of the rangers run her out to the Lodge to bathe in the swimming-pool. She had the place almost to herself for the morning, the present

parties of tourists all being out with their guides on the plains. Towards lunchtime they began to filter back for the midday lull.

Sitting on the pool side with her feet dangling in the tepid water, Sara watched the movement between restaurant and bar and wondered if even one of those laughing, chattering people had gained anything special from their visit to the wilds of Africa. To most, a reserve was nothing more than a glorified zoo, except that here the human element occupied the cages while the animals roamed free. By this time next week or next month they'd all be back in their homelands, eagerly telling the tale of how they'd seen lion and elephant and rhinoceros in their natural habitat, proudly showing the photographs snapped from the windows of a slowly moving car as the guide angled for the best position. For one or two, perhaps, would come the fleeting memory of nights thick with sound and sunrises such as they would see nowhere else in the world, of the sheer fantasy of a herd of impala stretched in full flight, or the majesty of a single lion silhouetted against the evening sky, but they would be impressions they couldn't pass on because they wouldn't know how. No words could ever be enough.

Sara was on the verge of making a move into the shade herself when the young man who had come out from the restaurant area detached himself from the family group he was with to stroll across the grass to where she sat. As he approached closer, she saw that he was probably only a year or so older than she was herself though with an air of confidence which at a distance had led her to think him in his mid-twenties at

least. He was smiling in a friendly fashion, hands thrust casually into the pockets of his shorts, fair hair lifting slightly in the light breeze which had sprung up.

`Say, you're new, aren't you?' he said. 'Get in this morning?'

Sara shook her head. 'I live here.'

`Here?' His good-looking young face registered surprise. 'At the Lodge?'

`N
O, no. We're about twenty miles away.' She wrapped her arms about her knees. 'My father is Warden of Kambala Station.'

`Oh?' Interest replaced the surprise, and he sank to a seat on the grass beside her. 'Hey, that must be really something ! Imagine actually living right out here ! You must be a real adventurous type. I'm Travis Willard from Detroit.'

`Sara Macdonald. I've never met anyone from Detroit before,' she added, unable to think of anything else to say on the spur of the moment.

`Well, it's nothing like this, I can tell you — although the jungle bit still applies. We live sixteen floors up in an apartment block. On a clear day you can almost see the street.'

`We?'

`The family. Mother, father and younger brother. This trip was supposed to be my, nineteenth birthday present, but we decided to wait another year and make it all together.'

Sara said, 'And has it been worth waiting for?'

`Sure has. Wouldn't have missed it.' He sounded genuinely enthusiastic. 'We've been to Aberdare and Amboseli, Nairobi and now this. I'm not looking forward to setting off for home the day after tomorrow, I can tell you.'

`You've certainly got around,' commented Sara. `How long have you had?'

`A month. I've taken reels and reels of cine film, so at least I'll have something to remember it all by.' He looked over his shoulder to where his family had settled themselves down on loungers along the shaded terrace. `Say, why don't you come over and meet the, folks? They'd be tickled pink to know you.'

She glanced down at herself uncertainly. 'Shouldn't, I get changed first?'

`I don't see why.' His glance was frankly admiring. `You look fine. I wish I could get a tan like that, but just catch and burn, so I have to watch it.'

`Then you'd better get into the shade,' she said, smiling at him. 'And I'd like to meet your family very much'

The rest of the Willards proved to be as warmly friendly as the elder son, and soon made Sara feel at home in their midst. Travis's younger brother was aged about ten and was introduced simply as Chipper. He eyed Sara with suddenly awakened interest when Travis told them that she lived on the Reserve itself, freckling face lighting up.

`Can you ride an elephant?' he demanded without preamble.

Sara smiled and shook her head regretfully. 'I'm afraid not.'

`Well, have you got a pet lion, then?'

Again she had to acknowledge failure, and he began to look scornful. 'Gee
whizz, you must have somethin' !

You can't ...'

`Chipper !' warned his mother in a voice long accustomed to warding off embarrassing observations from her son. She glanced apologetically at Sara. 'He's been watching too many of those old Tarzan films on television. I think he expected to find everyone round here swinging from the trees.'

He wasn't alone in that, thought Sara, recalling some of the stories related by the guides after taking certain parties out for a day's sightseeing. According to them, some of the folk who came on these safari trips wouldn't have been at all surprised to see Tarzan himself come swinging through the trees !

`I do have a monkey,' she offered, wondering if that could possibly constitute an adequate substitute for a lion. Apparently it did have some merit, for Chipper's face regained its shine.

`What kind? A chimp?'

`No, it's a Sykes.'

His broad forehead wrinkled. 'I've never heard of one of those.'

`Oh, you've probably seen them in the zoo. It's sometimes called the Blue monkey, or Kima in Swahili.'

`Can you speak Swahili?'

Mr. Willard raised his eyes to heaven. '
Quiz time
again! You've asked more questions than an
encyclopaedia
could answer this last four weeks!'

`I don't mind,' Sara said quickly. 'I can speak enough to get by on,' she added to Chipper. 'There's a young fawn back at the Station, too — a dik-dik. That's about the smallest in the world.'

`Gosh!' The boy's eyes were round. 'Can I see it —and the monkey?'

`Chipper, how many times do I have to tell you about begging for invitations like that?' broke in his mother hastily. 'Of course you can't.'

Sara-watched the glow start to die, and gave herself no time to consider. 'Oh, he can if he wants to. Why don't you all come over in the morning? You could easily get your guide to run you across.'

`Gosh,' said Chipper again. 'Can we really? Gosh, wait till I tell the kids at school about this! A real game station!'

`Are you sure it will be all right?' asked his father doubtfully. 'Won't your father mind?'

`My father isn't here at the moment,' she returned, already half regretting the impulse but seeing no fair way out of it. 'And of course it will be all right. If you like heights, Chipper, I can take you to a place where you'll be able to see all kinds of animals.'

`Hey,' chimed in Travis in mock indignation, 'what about me?'

`You too, if you want.' She smiled at him, pushing back a lock of hair which had fallen across her forehead, then felt the smile fasten itself on to her face as her gaze travelled over her shoulder and fell upon the man coming along the , terrace towards their little group.

Steve came to a stop at the outer edge of the circle of chairs, tall and brown in the bush shirt and shorts, his hat as always pushed to the back of his head. He swept 'a provoking scrutiny over her scantily-clad form, said pleasantly:

`I thought you might be ready to go back, but there's no rush if you want to wait for Temu to fetch you.' The smile he directed at Mrs. Willard was easy and casual. `Nice of you to take her under your wing for a bit. There isn't much company for a young girl out at Kambala.'

Sara clamped her teeth around the too ready retort. This wasn't the time to be getting his back up. She murmured introductions, explained Steve's position in relation to the Station, and heard Mr. Willard voice the anticipated response with a sinking feeling.

`Sara just suggested that we take a trip out in the morning to see her pets,' he said. 'Will that be all right with you?'

To do Steve credit he didn't even glance her way. `Good idea. Make a change for everybody.'

`Thanks. That's settled, then.' The other indicated a spare chair. 'How about joining us for a drink?

Expecting — or was it hoping? — for him to refuse, Sara was disconcerted when Steve accepted the invitation without hesitation and sat down in the proffered chair while their host summoned a waiter. Couldn't she even have one day free of him? she fumed, conveniently forgetting the three previous when she hadn't seen him until nightfall. He was doing it on purpose because he knew she didn't want him there, she decided, catching his mocking glance. She turned her back on him with deliberation and treated Travis to a smile which lit up his eyes in response.

`You were going to tell me what you do back home,' she said with blatant disregard for the truth.

With such encouragement she could hardly blame

Travis for taking her at her word and doing just that. He was training to be an architect, it turned out, and was totally fascinated by the whole field of learning in which he was immersed. Sara listened to him enthusiastically extolling the virtues of one style and period of building as opposed to another, learned something about the techniques employed by Wren and the manner in which these had been adapted in modern-day architecture, and tried her best to look and sound suitably impressed. What made it worse was that she could hear Steve's voice in the background casually answering questions put to him in friendly curiosity by the Willards regarding his background, and she wanted, badly, to listen in to that conversation with all her attention. She had a strong feeling that it wasn't very usual for Steve to be quite so forthcoming, but he apparently liked the Willards enough to bend a few personal rules. Remembering the brief, almost abrupt manner in which he had answered her own query along those lines the other night, Sara felt more than a little hurt.

BOOK: The man at Kambala
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