'I wish you luck, my dear,' Mrs Ryan sighed, and patted Kelly's hand before leaving to fetch Roy Farley.

Kelly's gaze automatically lifted to Noni's portrait above the fireplace, and she drew strength from it. Noni had died riding, but she would never have given it up if she had lived. And neither would Kelly give it up! Henry Lloyd had been proud of her for following in Noni's footsteps, and she would continue to do so. Justin St John had to understand that.

'Miss Hanrahan…’

She swung around to face Roy Farley, who remained poised in the doorway, his face carved in polite reserve.

'You wanted to see me about something?' he enquired.

'Where's Mr St John?' she demanded to know.

'I'm here to handle Mr St John's business.'

'Not the kind of business I want to talk about, Mr Farley. It's personal.'

'I'm sorry, Miss Hanrahan, but…'

'I'm not budging from this house until I see Mr St John. You can tell him that from me, Mr Farley,' she declared, striking a determined stand.

He stiffened into aloof dignity. 'Miss Hanrahan…'

'Please go and tell him!' Kelly commanded, her voice lifting to a loud ringing tone. 'It's ridiculous for him to be hiding behind you. And if he can't stand on his own two feet, then you'd better lead me to him. For one thing, he needs more physiotherapy. And it's ridiculous to deny that, too.'

'Mr St John has no further business with you, Miss Hanrahan,' he said frostily. 'If you can't accept that, I'm sorry. But if you won't leave of your own accord, I'll pick you up myself and carry you outside.'

'Lay one finger on me and I'll have the law on to you,' Kelly threatened fiercely.

'You're trespassing, Miss Hanrahan.'

'I'm being friendly, for heaven's sake!' Kelly cried in furious frustration. 'This situation is crazy! Who does Justin St John think he is, anyway? Another Howard Hughes?'

Roy Farley started walking towards her, his rugged face grim with purpose.

'Don't do it!' Kelly warned. 'Marian Park isn't the city, you know. And neither is Crooked Creek. You can't treat people here like unwanted rubbish…'

'Roy, I'll handle this!'

Justin St John's voice cracked across the room and spun Kelly around. Roy Farley had used the foyer entrance. Justin St John stood at the double doors which opened into the music-room, emanating an authority that denied he hid behind anything.

He wore grey trousers and a grey and white striped shirt with crisp white collar and cuffs. His black hair was neatly groomed but his face was more harshly drawn than Kelly had ever seen it. The grey eyes bored into her with steely disdain, making Kelly intensely aware that she had not stopped to tidy her appearance before racing up to see him.

Her hair was thick enough and heavy enough to hang smoothly to her shoulders, even though it hadn't been brushed for hours, but she probably didn't have a scrap of make-up left on her face. Her freckles would be showing and her lipstick worn off. The fabric of her dark green dress was a polyester mix, so it shouldn't be crumpled, but the shirt-dress style was more practical than elegant, and she felt very ordinary and unattractive.

Justin St John's gaze flicked past her. Roy Farley hesitated. He was given a nod of dismissal, and the secretary left.

Justin St John returned his attention to Kelly. 'My physical and mental well-being is my own concern, Miss Hanrahan. Not yours,' he said pointedly. 'You now have your own part of Marian Park. I have mine. If I choose to seclude myself here, that's my business. You have no right to thrust your… unwanted presence on me or my property. Do I make myself clear?'

'No!' Kelly burst out indignantly. 'No, you don't! And I won't accept it, either. The other night you turned into a human being and I don't see why you can't stay that way. I came up here to thank you, as any well-mannered person would, and I will not be treated like a… like a pariah! Why should I?'

His face tightened, I told you I didn't need to be thanked.'

'Well, you're going to be thanked whether you like it or not!' Kelly retorted. Her hands flew out to emphasise her points. 'You could have tied Grandpa up in the law courts for years, but you didn't. You were kind and generous and…and big-hearted to push everything through so fast. Not many people would have cared about an old man's feelings. It was very good of you. And that's why I'm here. I want to thank you!'

His face relaxed its hard reserve during her passionate recital and his mouth actually curled into an ironic little smile. 'Consider me thanked. Now, if that is all, Miss Hanrahan…'

'No, it's not all! In fact, I've hardly begun!' Her eyes flashed down to the walking-stick he was leaning on, then up again to challenge him. 'That leg is still giving you pain, isn't it? And don't say it's not my business. You called me in as a physiotherapist and…'

'And I paid you off,' he cut in with smooth and deadly precision. 'That is my prerogative, Miss Hanrahan.' A ghost of a smile twitched across his face. 'I didn't like the way you… er… wanted to tear into me.'

'Oh!' Kelly stamped her foot and turned away from him in disgust. She paced the floor in angry agitation, throwing him accusing looks. 'That was before. And you know it. And I didn't do it even when I had most reason to. You're being utterly unreasonable. You know you need treatment. What's wrong with me giving it to you?'

His expression tightened up again. 'No fault lies with you,' he stated flatly. 'The choice was… is… mine.'

She flapped her hands in helpless appeal against his intransigence. 'It makes no sense to refuse what I can do for you.'

'It does to me,' he grated.

She didn't know why she kept beating her head against what was obviously a brick wall, but a compelling urge to reach him drove her feet forward. 'Please… let me help you,' she implored softly.

His whole body tensed at her approach. 'Why?' he barked at her.

Kelly faltered to a standstill a few paces short of him, sensing a resistance so deep that it seemed foolhardy to go on. She actually felt a prickle of danger at the back of her neck. But she ignored the warning signals.

'Because I want to,' she said with direct simplicity. 'And I don't believe you like suffering pain.'

'No.' His eyes burned at her with a brief, turbulent glitter. 'No!' he repeated with more vehemence, then wrenched his gaze from hers, lifting it beyond her, fixing it with seemingly anguished obsession on the portrait of Noni.

Kelly was left hanging in a vacuum, shut out by him but with nowhere to go. Positive action was the only answer her bewildered mind threw up, and she stepped forward and touched his arm in an attempt to force his attention back to her.

'Why won't you let me help you?'

His eyes stabbed down with glittering savagery. 'Because you're a child! A child who has cost me too much already!'

His voice was shocking in its harsh brutality. There was almost hatred in his tone. Certainly bitterness… of a cup that had filled to the brim and overflowed.

She stared up at him, transfixed by something she didn't understand. Intuitively she was aware that he knew something she didn't… and the knowledge was an old, old agony that washed through him as he stared blindly into her eyes, not seeing the woman she was, but something or someone else. And her heart twisted with an unfamiliar fear.

He was virtually a stranger. How could he know something about her that she didn't know? Why did she feel tied to him by something she didn't understand? Yet the feeling was there, binding them together. And when he lifted his hand and touched her face…it did not feel like the hand of a stranger.

A muscle in his jaw contracted. He removed his hand from her cheek and clenched it into a fist before slowly dropping it to his side. The tight, shuttered look came back to his face, closing in all vestige of emotion, and he turned away from her, leaning heavily on his walking-stick as he made his way to the closest armchair. He clutched the backrest as if he needed extra support.