Be Mine: Valentine Novellas to Warm The Heart

by Nicole Flockton

  “Thank you, Sir Mummy,” Chloe whispered into Libby’s ear.

  “I’m no sir, I’m a noble steed.” Libby galloped up the driveway, her daughter giggling the whole way back to their tent.

  Libby set Chloe on her feet and unzipped the canvas door. “PJ time.” Libby looked back down the driveway. “Unless you need to do a wee wee?” She should have thought of that while they were closer to the house.

  Chloe squinted her eyes and pursed her lips. “Nope. No wee wee.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yup.”

  “In we go.” Libby guided her daughter into the tent then followed, zipping the door closed behind them.

  The air mattress took up over half the floor, leaving a strip to the right for them to get changed. The sun had begun creeping down over the hills as they entered the tent, so there was still enough light to see what they were doing without turning on their torches and creating a silhouette show for the rest of the concert campers. Clad in matching cotton t-shirts and elastic waisted pants, the girls climbed into bed, the mattress wobbling as they wriggled into their individual sleeping bags.

  “Mummy?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t brush my teeth.”

  “That’s okay, just this once. You can do them after breakfast.”

  “Okay.” Chloe rolled over to face Libby. “Mummy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you bring Tom?”

  At least this friend wasn’t a spider. “I did.” She retrieved the threadbare teddy from the gap between the tent wall and the mattress. Seems like tonight was not going to be the night that Chloe stopped relying on her security bear.

  “Thanks Mummy.” Chloe squeezed the bear tight. “Can you tell me a story? The one about the princess and the knight and the dragon?”

  “Close your eyes.”

  Chloe squeezed her eyes shut, her little face scrunching up. Libby began the story. The same tale her mother had told her when she was little and that Chloe had requested every night for the past six months. Out of sheer boredom, Libby would change little details here and there. Sometimes the princess wore a blue dress, sometimes a yellow one. She might live in a castle, a tower, a cabin on a mountain top. But the core of the story remained the same. The princess was captured by a dragon, the knight rescued her and they lived happily ever after.

  Did Libby really want to teach her daughter that all she needed to do was sit around and wait to be rescued? That’s what had happened today. Libby had just sat down and waited for a man. Why hadn’t she tried a bit harder to get the door open herself? She was constantly telling herself that she didn’t need a man but she was still acting helpless. She’d even relied on her ex-husband to put this tent up for her. She spent her days encouraging her clients to be as independent as they could, but here she was, training her daughter to be helpless.

  Tonight’s story took a different turn. The princess wore a blue dress and lived in a castle but when the knight came to rescue her, he slipped down the bank of the river and got swept downstream. The dragon saw him on her morning flight and told the princess who went and rescued him. They still lived happily ever after. Libby might not believe in that part but she wanted to raise an independent daughter, not a jaded one.

  Chloe’s face slackened and her breath softened. Libby eased herself onto her back. She stared at the roof of the tent, the light fading as twilight gave way to night. If only sleep came as easily to her as to Chloe.

  Libby slipped her phone out from under her pillow, unwrapped the earbuds and unlocked the screen. The single bar of mobile reception flickered then disappeared again. They weren’t that far from town but the reception sucked in this gully. The battery was still at 50%. Libby plugged the earbuds in her ears and opened the audiobook app. Maybe she’d fall asleep if someone read her a bedtime story. She set the sleep timer for half an hour and pressed play. A couple of chapters of an urban fantasy played softly into her ears. The kick-ass heroine would inspire her to find her inner strength.

  Libby dreamt of herself, clad in black leather, dancing with a tattooed man on a dark city street, tufts of grass growing up through the cracked concrete.

  6

  The pre-dawn light filtered through the walls of the tent, bringing Libby gently to consciousness. She tugged the cords trailing from her ears, removing the earbuds that had remained in place all night long. Morning birdsong brought a smile to her face. She opened her eyes and rolled over, stretching her arm out to cuddle her sleeping daughter.

  Her arm sank onto an empty sleeping bag.

  “Chloe?” Libby sat up, eyes wide.

  She patted down the length of the child-sized sleeping bag. No child-sized lumps. Only a small bear-shaped one. Libby dropped the teddy on her daughter’s pillow. “Chloe?”

  She scrambled out of her sleeping bag, scanning the inside of the tent. Both torches lay between their pillows. Chloe’s princess dress lay crumpled in the corner of the tent. But her crown was missing.

  Libby ripped the zipper down and stepped barefoot out of the tent. Chloe’s little boots were gone.

  “Chloe!” Her voice rang across the quiet paddock.

  No response.

  Libby took a step forward, a bindi weed stabbing into her heel. Ow. She plucked the offending prickle out, throwing it to the side and slipping her feet into the pair of thongs she’d left by the door.

  She shook her ex-husband’s tent. “Daniel. Wake up. Is Chloe in there?”

  “No.” His voice gravelly, like it always was when he first woke up.

  “Have a look. She could be hiding.” She could open the door and look for herself but the thought of what else she might see held her back.

  “What are you talking about?” Daniel’s voice cleared. “There’s barely room for me and Tess in here. And why are you playing hide and seek at this hour?”

  “We’re not playing. I woke up and she was gone.”

  The tent door ripped open and Daniel’s head popped out. “What do you mean she’s gone?”

  Her jaw clenched. “I mean she’s not in her bed and I don’t know where she is.”

  “Hang on.” The door zipped shut, then moments later Daniel emerged wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, his feet jammed into a pair of black joggers, the laces left undone. “Have you checked the house?

  “I came straight here.”

  “You wait by the tent in case she comes back. I’ll go check inside.”

  “Okay.”

  Libby watched as he strode down the driveway then circled her tent, scanning the surrounds in each direction. She couldn’t just stand here and wait.

  “Chloe!” Where would she have gone? Maybe she’d gone to see that damn spider? Libby grabbed her torch and raced over to her car, peering underneath and calling her daughter’s name. No Chloe.

  She checked the doors. All locked.

  She pressed her face against the windscreen, the side window, the rear window, her torchlight illuminating the dark corners of her car. Nothing.

  She wove between the parked cars, slapping her hand on the door panels and calling Chloe’s name. No response.

  She ran back to their tent and checked inside. Had Chloe reappeared while she was looking the other way? No. She stood, waiting, feeling useless. What else could she do? She needed to be here, didn’t she?

  The sound of feet pounding gravel drew her attention. Daniel jogged up the driveway towards her. Empty-handed.

  “I checked the house.” He shook his head.

  “Did you check the kitchen?” Maybe she’d been hungry?

  “I checked every room. I even woke up the couple who live there to look under their bed. He’s getting dressed now and coming to help search. He knows all the spots his son likes to hide. He said he’d check there first. I’m taking the car to search the road. Daniel disappeared into his tent, re-emerging moments later, keys in hand.

  Libby stood by her tent, watching a dust cloud bloom behind his car as he drove away. W
atching. She didn’t want to be watching. Libby shuffled from foot to foot. Desperate times called for desperate measures. She strode over to Daniel’s tent. Taking a deep breath, she shook the tent again. “Tess.”

  The dishevelled woman poked her head out of the tent, her faded pink hair in a tangled top knot. “Did you find her?” Her hair colour may be fake but her concern sounded genuine.

  “Not yet. Can you wait here in case she comes back? I need to keep looking. Standing around is driving me insane.”

  “Of course.” Tess emerged from the tent, still wearing yesterday’s outfit.

  Excellent. She could go and look for Chloe. But where? Libby scanned her unfamiliar rural surrounds. Where would she go if she was an almost-five-year-old girl?

  When Chloe woke up at home, she’d climb into bed with Libby and snuggle until one of them had to get up to go to the loo. Daniel had already checked the house, and she wasn’t in the toilet. But Chloe was scared of that toilet. Libby looked over the fence-line. The bushes. Maybe she’d gone back there?

  Libby ran across the paddock, the beam of light bouncing in front of her, illuminating tussocks of grass and misshapen rocks just in time for her to jump over them. “Chloe!” She reached the fence-line. Her torch found nothing but bushes and grass. And the big brown eyes of a dairy cow. Would Chloe have climbed over the fence to play with the cows? The fence wasn’t electrified, so she might have. Libby leant over the fence as far as she could. “Chloe!” Her torch found the big brown eyes of several more cows but no blue little-girl eyes.

  Libby’s chest tightened as tendrils of fear curled around her heart.

  Paul squinted at his watch, the silver hands pointing in opposite directions. It wasn’t even 6am. What on earth was he doing awake at this hour? Then he heard it again. It wasn’t a dream. Well, considering he was alone and in a swag, he had been dreaming, but he hadn’t imagined her calling her daughter’s name.

  “Chloe.”

  She sounded upset. Something was wrong.

  He unzipped the door to his tiny tent and climbed out. One by one he turned his boots over, thumped the bottoms, then jammed his feet in. He rubbed his eyes and looked around. There she was. Standing by the fence. He strode over, rolling his shoulders to work out the kinks in his upper back. Next time he camped, he’d make sure he checked for rocks before rolling out his bed.

  “Mornin’. Everything all right?”

  Libby turned to face him, her long blonde hair tangled and her cheeks stained with tears. “No. I can’t find Chloe.”

  “Where did you see her last?”

  “In the tent when we went to sleep last night. I woke up and she was gone.”

  Paul’s heart skipped. He flashed back to that time when he was eight and his parents were fighting again. “Do you think she ran away?”

  “Of course not. Why would she run away? She’s not even five yet. And she left Tom behind. She never goes anywhere without her teddy.”

  Paul reached out, placing his hand on her arm. “Okay. We’ll find her.”

  “Daniel has checked the house and now he’s driving up and down the road. She wouldn’t have gone onto the road, would she? What if...” Her shoulders fell.

  “She seems like a clever little girl to me. She didn’t take her teddy but did she take anything else?”

  Libby scratched the back of her hand. “She took her crown. And her boots are missing.”

  “So she wanted to walk somewhere.”

  “I thought she might have come over here. To go to the toilet. She was scared of the toilet in the house after yesterday.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “Did you hear anything?”

  Paul shook his head. “Sorry. I was sound asleep.”

  “Chloe!” Libby shouted, her hands cupped around her mouth.

  Paul surveyed the surrounding area. There was a direct line of sight to Libby and Chloe’s tent. If she’d come to the bushes, she would have ended up right here. The grass around the bushes was trampled but it would have taken adult feet to do that much damage. Five or six metres down the fence-line was a clump of those yellow weed flowers. Dandelions? Two stems were crushed and hanging limply to the side. Paul strode over for a closer look. Several other stems had been snapped off. The flowers were too far from the fence for the cows to have eaten them. “Does Chloe like flowers?”

  “She loves them.”

  Paul beckoned Libby over. “Do you think she might have picked these?”

  Libby bent down and ran her fingers through the broken stems. “That’s the sort of thing she would do.” She stood, cocked her head to one side, then ran away.

  “Libby?” He followed.

  She fell to her knees. “Chloe.”

  He reached her side. She looked up at him, a plastic crown clutched to her chest. “It’s hers.”

  “Good.”

  “Good? It’s not good. She’s lost!”

  “But now we know she came this way.” He stretched his hand out to help her up. She ignored his offer and stood. Her streak of independence made him smile. “I’m going to follow the fence and keep looking down the back of the property.”

  Libby’s eyes widened. “The creek.” She tore off down the paddock and past the house.

  The creek. Why hadn’t he thought of that earlier? He charged after her.

  The gate separating the front paddock from the back one was ajar. Paul shoved it open and they both barrelled through.

  “Chloe!” Libby shouted. Their footsteps drowning out any possible reply.

  Paul grabbed her arm, bringing them both to a halt. “Chloe!” His voice bellowed through the valley.

  “Mummy.” A shaky reply wafted up from over the rise.

  “Chloe! I’m coming!”

  Side by side, they raced over the rise and down the other side. They slowed as they approached the creek, the bank so steep that they only caught glimpses of the water as it flowed around the bends. This creek was known to flood and cut off the road. Thankfully, the winter rains were long gone and spring had been dry this year.

  “Chloe, where are you?” Libby called.

  “I’m here.”

  They followed the little voice a few metres upstream. Libby peered over the edge of the river bank. “Chloe. Mummy’s here. Are you hurt?”

  “My knee is bleeding.”

  Paul caught Libby’s elbow as her foot slipped on the dewy grass. “Careful.”

  She glared at him, pulling her arm free. Her expression softened. “I’ll climb down and get her. Can you help us back up?”

  “I can climb down. You don’t have to get all muddy.”

  “I’m not worried about a bit of mud.” Her eyes roamed his body. “And I don’t think I could haul you back up if you got stuck.”

  She had a point.

  Libby sat on the edge of the river bank and slid over. The top of the bank was level with her shoulder. Chloe was lucky to have only cut her knee.

  “Mummy!” The little girl’s mud-stained face appeared as her mother lifted her in an embrace.

  “I was so worried.” Libby showered her daughter with kisses. “I’m going to pass you up to Paul. You remember him?”

  Libby boosted her daughter up. Paul grabbed her under the armpits and lifted.

  The little princess wrapped her arms around him. “Hello, Sir Paul. I knew you would come and rescue me.”

  A warmth spread through his chest. “Can you stand?”

  She nodded.

  He lowered Chloe to her feet. “We’d better rescue your mum, too.”

  “You’re not rescuing me, we’re working as a team. It’s totally different.”

  Paul smirked at her indignant tone. He knelt by the edge of the river bank and stretched out a hand. Libby gripped his hand and dug a toe into the edge of the bank. Paul hauled. Libby’s foot slipped.

  “Ruddy thongs,” she muttered, pulling the offending footwear off and tossing them up.

  They tried again, working together.
Libby flopped onto the ground beside Paul then rolled onto all fours. Before she could scramble to her feet, Chloe wrapped her arms around both of them.

  “Thank you, Sir Paul, for saving me and my mummy.”

  Paul knelt stiffly, unsure what to do.

  Libby kissed her daughter again then met his gaze. “Yes. Thanks, Paul.”

  Her arm slipped around him, pulling Paul into the embrace. He let out the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding and returned the hug.

  “Come on, we need to tell everyone to stop looking.” Libby wiped her thumb across Chloe’s face, smearing the splash of mud into a streak. “And then we need to get cleaned up.” Libby stood, taking her daughter’s hand.

  “But I don’t want a bath. Can I just use a wet wipe? You said I could have wet wipe baths while we were camping.”

  “We can use wipes now but straight into the bath when we get home.” Libby pushed Chloe’s hair from her face. “And it’s definitely hair wash day. You have mud in your hair.”

  “But Mummy.”

  “No arguments.” Her voice was soft and firm all at once, the love evident.

  Paul stood. A smile crept onto his face. Their bond was beautiful. He’d never felt that with his mum. She’d always been busy working or arguing with his dad. Until she left, anyway.

  “Are you coming, Sir Paul? I think you need a wet wipe, too.” Chloe held out her hand.

  Paul looked from the little girl’s muddy hand to her mother’s pale blue eyes.

  Libby smiled and nodded. “Come on, I’ll clean you up, too.”

  Paul took Chloe’s hand and they walked slowly back to the tents.

  “What were you doing near the creek?” Libby demanded. “I told you to stay this side of the house.”

  “I was playing princess and went to rescue the knight in the river.”

  Paul’s curiosity got the better of him. “I thought the knights did the rescuing?”

  “They usually do,” Chloe replied, “But mummy changed the story last night and the princess got to rescue the knight. So I thought I could be a brave princess, too, but then I fell down and I had to get saved.”