Doomed Dynasty Pt. 02

"I'm relieved to hear that," said Vikki.

"I've got all of my treasured recipes and collection of copper pans and heavy oven dishes amongst that lot. It would have been terrible had I lost them."

Matt sat beside her, charmingly declining the offer to lean over and see how the medical staff had attached a see-through adhesive dressing over her neatly stitched wound.

"You're blushing Matt," she giggled.

"Are you coming back to live here again?" he asked, to switch the conversation.

"Yes. It's time to start up my own business and I couldn't think of a better place than Miranda because it lacks a decent restaurant."

"You'll do a bit of a freeze until you can change people's habits as this is not Little America," commented Matt authoritatively. "People here are accustomed to eating home-cooked meals at evenings, or taking hot food back to consume at home. It's a culture thing. American frontier people got their food supplied from chuck wagons when they were on the trail so guess what? They still eat out a lot, at diners and snack from food stalls on streets and in parks."

"My haven't you acquired a business mind and power of observation."

"Observation comes from years of inspecting livestock.'

She laughed. I know it will be hard to change people's habits but people here see people in movies eating out just for the sake of eating out and with more and more New Zealand going overseas these days when they return they will want to eat out at cafes, I just know they will. The trend is happening right now in Wellington and no doubt Auckland as well. One can either be first, or follow the pack. My choice is to be the first in this town."

"Good thinking, Vikki. This town needs people with a little bit of get up and go. Where do you plan to set-up?"

"Well, I have not advanced that far yet. I need to look around. Have you any suggestions?"

"Not really, No, wait a tick. I've got a half-share in the old land and grain building on the riverbank. With the purchase we inherited a saddlers' and footwear repair businesses. But as the saddlers' trade throughout the country is virtually on its last legs, our tenant is moving out to merge with another similar business in another town. Do you remember the building?"

"Of course, it concrete with big timber beams and has a huge loft."

"Correct. What do you think? Could that be suitable?"

Vikki raised her left arm to begin the short period of exercises she had been instructed to do on the hour, every hour as she also had extensive bruising to her left shoulder. "I have extensive bruising on my shoulder," she said, looking at Matt sternly. "Mr Packard the surgeon reckons it probably was caused by you pulling me from my car. Are you sorry?"

"Yes, yes," replied Matt, looking at her unrestrained breasts jiggling as she moved. "You know I never intended hurting you, not even all those years ago when ..."

He stopped, confused, trying to figure out why Vikki was trying to manipulate him like this.

"I know, Matt. I really wasn't referring to the past. But now that it has come up again I need to tell you this. I know it was an accident, and tried to tell father that. He was almost accepting that when his horrible sister, my Aunty Alice had her penny's worth and she led father by the nose. She could be a real cow at times, and on that occasion she was a proper beast."

"Goodness gracious," laughed Matt. "To think after all the hair-raising encounters I have had with bulls here and in Wyoming that I was virtually done in by a mad cow."

Vikki laughed and laughed, tears coming to her eyes. She stretched out her arms and said: "Come here your handsome brute. I want to kiss you."

Matt, being the rough-honed gentleman that he was, obliged.

Later he drove into the town, pleased that Vikki had told him as he was leaving that she could be interested in taking a lease of space in the old land and grain building. He'd told her that he would present her with a proposal once she had inspected the property. If she were interested they could sit down and talk final terms with his half partner Alec Bishop.

Walking along the main street to the bank Matt realised he was near the accountancy office of Young, Bishop and Franks. He decided to sound out Alec.

"Sorry Matt, but I don't see myself being interested in such a proposal. I think a restaurant is not a bad idea, but one run by a woman would almost guarantee that the business would be bankrupt within a year. I've been thinking when the saddler leaves we should refurbish the building into a quality variety store. The farming community is pulling in a lot more money these days, so we ought to do our bit to relieve them of some of it. What do you think about that?"

Although Matt found he couldn't get Alec to at least go over Vikki's plans with her and assess their viability, he kept on talking.

Alec pulled out a bottle of whisky and two glasses, and they talked some more. Finally they shook hands, and Matt walked away whistling.

A couple of days later he returned to the hospital to see Vikki, but she had been discharged. The address Bette gave Matt led him to the Rev. Armstrong's home.

"Matt, welcome. Please come in. I was going to go over to your place this evening to personally thank you. I've just come back from a conference in Napier to find out about Vikki's nasty accident and how you rescued her. You acted splendidly Matt and I am ever so grateful."

He hugged Matt, making the nervous Matt nervous about being hugged by a guy but nevertheless pleased.

"It was nothing really," said Matt. "But she was worth saving, she's a lovely young woman."

This time is was Clyde Armstrong's turn to look pleased. "Look, young fellow, why don't you call me Clyde, I'm sure Vikki would like me telling you to do so."

Vikki was lying in the sitting room, and Matt was relieved that she did not ask him to kiss her because her father was right behind him. He handed Vikki the plans of the grain and saddlery building, specifications of its construction and an estimate by a builder they had both been at school with Max Mead's estimates included the cost of turning the loft into living quarters and details of a suggested conversion of the ground floor into a restaurant. Thrilled by this unexpected display of support, Vikki cleared her hair away from her eyes and examined the documents.

"This is wonderful, really wonderful, Matt. But I am sorry, I just don't have the capital required for such extensive work."

"I could secure the money for you my dear with a mortgage on this house," Clyde offered, nervously.

Matt laughed, and scratched behind his right ear. "Finance is not a problem. Vikki would be the tenant and Southern Star Holdings Ltd would be the landlord. The landlord would finance and arrange the conversion in return for the tenant taking a specified lease. The actual rental would be based on current rental values which would take into account recent improvements to the building."

Looking straight at her father, Matt continued: "All that Vikki has to do is engage an accountant to work with her to plan how the business will operate, establish estimated outgoings and income and so on, with the fixed expenses including the monthly rental of the premises. You will understand this, as you would have been involved in working in with your lay people in the operation of your church and any other properties."

Clyde nodded, and said thoughtfully, "I see."

"And I see two men trying to set up a girl's business venture for her," snorted Vikki. "Men!"

Matt moved to head off a possible attack. "Sorry, Vikki. I was just putting your father into the picture. Everyone setting up in business needs support, and you will need to talk to somebody from time to time to check if you're keeping on track and what changes you need to make."

"Do you have advisers Matt?"

"Of course Vikki. At the last count, not long before dad died, I figured we had fifteen."

"That's sounds an awful lot," the retired clergyman said doubtfully.

"Well it's how it is. We have advisers from the Department of Agriculture, the Meat Board, of veterinary group, our stock and station agency, have our farm water tested, our pastures tested and people come to us about erosion control, maintaining our forestry blocks, providing weeds eradication programmes, and so on. Then we have advisers on taxation, general accountancy, investment and we even pay a retainer to a law firm."

"Goodness," said Vikki. "How complicated. I would like you to know that although I am not in that league I've had formal training in running a kitchen-based business operation. I am also experienced in working in hospital kitchens, at resort hotels and in catering, including being executive chef. So I guess I am quite well prepared."

"Sounds like it to me. I'll leave this stuff with you and will come and see you on Friday. You can tell me then if you are interested. No pressure okay?"

"I can tell you now Matt," she replied. "I'm very interested."

Vikki licked her top lip and asked, "Matt, would you consider being my business adviser? You seem to know an awful lot. I would pay you."

He flushed, not from embarrassment but simply happy at being asked to do such a thing. But he responded negatively. "Sorry, Vikki. Not a good idea. I have financial involvement at the other end of your proposed enterprise through ownership of the premises. It could lead to awkward compromises."

Vikki beamed. "It's so lovely to hear you admit to that possibility Matt. As you know the folk say all the Curtis men are hard bastards. You have just shown yourself to be quite a softie."

"Hard yes, but whether we Curtis men are bastards can only be confirmed by our mothers," replied Matt, smiling.

It was Vikki's term to flush.

"Sherry anyone?" asked Clyde.

"It will be sherry for you and me, daddy, and a whisky for Matt I believe?"

Clyde shot a quick look at Vikki as if she hadn't called him daddy in years.

Matt asked, "How did you know that I drink whisky?"

"Everyone knows hard bastards drink whisky!"

Rev Armstrong almost dropped the heirloom crystal decanter in shock. He'd already heard his daughter use that awful word earlier, and now she had called Matt one to his face.

He turned to apologise for his daughter's rudeness but found the two of them in a huddle over the sketch plans.

An hour later Matt stood up to go. Vikki looked at him, slightly puzzled. "Matt, you haven't said what your business partner in the property thinks about the conversion into a restaurant and anything about this finance company."

He mumbled something.

"Pardon, I didn't hear that."

"I think he said his partner was not in favour," Clyde said, now standing beside Matt, ready to accompany him to the front porch.

"Oh dear," sighed Vikki. "So where do we go from here?"

"There's no problem, let it rest," responded Matt, turning leave.

"But I can't, I need to know if I will get possession."

"You will."

"But how can you be so sure?"

"Because I've bought Alec Bishop's share in the property, I now own the property outright. I'm Southern Star Holdings Ltd."

"Goodness gracious, how fascinating, how wonderful!" Vikki exclaimed. "I know I could sell you part of my business to secure tenancy renewal as you would be my sleeping partner."

"V-v-ikki!" stammered Clyde.

"Oh daddy, sleeping partner is a perfectly acceptable business term. It means a silent investor who is an inactive partner in the business."

Matt stood looking at her. She cupped a hand behind her ear indicating she couldn't hear anything.

"Is it okay if I give you my decision tomorrow?"

She nodded brightly. Matt strode over to her, lifted her hair away and kissed the fading bruise on her forehead very gently. He turned away before she could lay a hand on him, had that been her intention.

"Oooh yes, you can come to see me tomorrow."

Observing this from the doorway, Clyde looked at them thoughtfully.

"Goodbye Matt," he said, as Matt shook his hand and told him what a wonderful girl had had for a daughter.

Clyde watched him walk away, whistling a cheerful tune. From school ground thug to the town's most eligible bachelor; what a difference less than five years can make in a person, he thought, grinning toothily.

Matt didn't go to see Vikki the next afternoon. Instead he drove out to the farm asked one of the farmhands, Merv Thomas' son Art, who was a school dropout, to bring in Matt's horse.

"I'll saddle it."

Half an hour later Matt was on the black gelding with a crooked white star in its face, heading towards the back of the farm. He had re-named the horse Fearless in memory of his father.

Matt wanted to be in solitude because he was troubled. The complication occupying his mind was not business, not farming. It was a moral issue.

Fearless Curtis had drummed into Matt when he was young the same defiant philosophy that Fearless had heard repeatedly from his own father, "Always do what you think is right and to hell with the bigots and missionaries." It had been great advice, but he'd found it more difficult to apply in some situations than others.

His present dilemma was he was eager to help Vikki set-up in business, an act of contrition to repay her for the upset he had caused in her life at the time of his unintentional assault. There was no doubt that he could best discharge that mentoring role by operating at her flank as her silent partner. Perhaps he could find someone else to perform that role, but who? He pushed that consideration aside. He chose instead to concentrate on the fundamental worry. That was how could he be true to Courtney if he worked so intimately with Vikki when he knew he had carnal thoughts about Vikki?

Matt was aware that those of the opposite sex could present temptations that were difficult to resist. He'd had one or two occasions temptations had consumed him. In Wyoming for instance he'd had sex with both Caitlin and her mother, at different times of course. Martha had pursued him relentlessly and he'd yielded, not being his fault of course, and he'd been far from being disappointed with Martha. Those on the moral high ground declare that it is both honourable and easy to walk away, and they were welcome to those righteous beliefs. Those people presumably had never experienced one of those extraordinary encounters when a couple become captivated and lost their resistance to rising passion. It was how the system was supposed to work, wasn't it.

The rider began talking out aloud, although the nearest human would have been was beyond hearing Matt unravelling what was on his mind. "I'm inhabited by the Curtis' curse which is why we combat our weakness by acting resolutely in other directions," he muttered. "I'm not choir boy but neither am I an alley cat; I'm just a red-blooded fellow whose mind has now become shambles over women."

Fearless, given its head, picked its own route up the shale incline.

"We bear a cross for behaving like this. The women call us hard, the men that we hurt call us bastards. It's a wonder that anyone would want to live around us, to be near us. A real wonder."

At the top of the ridge Matt dismounted and looked across the parched folding foothills. Further away were the snow-capped peaks of the much higher mountain ranges.

That splendour took his mind off his mission for a moment, and he thought of his days in Wyoming when he rode or hiked into a similar landscape of foothills rising in mountainous ranges that in turn were dominated by the Rockies.

Some Angus cattle moved closer and closer to inspect the two intruders. The horse pretended to ignore them. They reached that invisible line that cattle not on a rampage seem to sense as being as far as they ought to go. So they stopped.

Matt was pleased at their condition, it continued to amaze him how the cattle could look so sleek when confined to these slopes where grazing was limited to foraging amongst shale and rocks. As the half dozen steers drifted away, Matt's mind returned to his dilemma. Actually he would have not dilemma, he thought, if Courtney were to reject his proposal of marriage. Then if temptation came his way he would be free to deal with it.

"But what if she says yes?" he said, aloud. "Dammit, dammit. There must be an answer."

Perhaps there was but it didn't come to Matt that morning.

Horseman and rider moved as one during the descent in treacherous shale slides. Matt altered the distribution of his weight at times to assist Fearless maintain balance during some of the faster slides. Matt's father had broken his leg badly in two places many years earlier when taking on a slide like this.

Matt remembered the story well. His father was a renowned horseman. On that particular day he was riding a hack because his usual mount was lame. Sliding through shale that was rock broken down over thousands of years of being frozen by snow and ice and then heated by fierce summer sun, the foot of his horse slammed against a larger rock anchored in the ground that was all but buried by the shale.

Before his father could kick his right leg free of the stirrup the horse had fallen on to him, crushing his leg against another rock. Collier Curtis lay on the hillside all night in near-freezing conditions, bone protruding from the skin of his lower leg.

Just after daylight Collier had heard a shot, and winced, as he liked all horses, even farm hacks. He guessed the searchers had found his horse and it, too, must have broken its leg, and so was put out of its misery. The searchers pressed on and eventually heard his call. As one of them cut open the leg of Collier's thick woollen trousers, exposing the extent of the injury that had everyone there amazed that he was conscious. Not only that, it was said that he had barked out, "I'll need a whisky, I'm thirsty."

The radio operator's message received back at the temporary search and rescue base was, "Jeeze he's not concerned about his broken leg. I'd be out to it, probably dead if I had stayed on this wind-swept hillside all night. We've not bred to be tough bastards like the Curtis's."

Matt grinned, the story was locked in his memory to be related to his own children, if he were to have any. His mother also had the newspaper cutting that contained the full report including that radio operator's quotation.

He and his horse completed the descent without incident and soon they were into the widening part of the valley, where the going was much easier. Matt stopped to look at a large plateau of recently top-dressed pastureland where later in the summer he would assist with the haymaking. The thought of haymaking turned his thoughts back to his haymaking seasons in Wyoming.

It was almost 9:00 when Matt knocked at the door of Rev. Armstrong's house, and only then did he notice no lights were showing. He was just turning away to leave when Clyde shuffled to the door. They exchanged greetings and Matt was told that they had been unpacking Vikki's stuff for most of the afternoon and she was now asleep.

"No problem. Could you please tell her that my answer is yes, I will partner her."

"Oh she will be delighted. It's a miracle that this has happened, Matt." Then casting his eyes upwards in theatrical fashion, the retired minister said: "Somebody up there is looking after Vikki."

Matt arrived home, and his mother had already gone to bed. He found his dinner under a slow warmer on the stove. Chewing a mouthful of peas and potato he came to his decision. He would say nothing about this potential two-women problem to anyone, especially not the women and certainly not his mother because he knew what her indignant reaction would be.

He would wait to see what eventuated.

Milly and Cody returned from their tour down the West Coast, across to Queenstown and Wanaka, through the desolate Lindis Pass to Christchurch and back up the East Coast to almost Blenheim to rejoin Matt and Patricia on the farm where they spent two more days before flying back to America.