Du Rose Family Ties

by Bowes, K T

  Hana disconnected and placed the phone back on its charger. Her mind raced, hoping the gentle elderly doctor made the home visit priority. She winced at the thought of him pootling through the mountains in his tiny shoebox of a car, counting down the days to retirement and arriving confused about why he was there. A moment of panic visited at the same time she realised perhaps Dr Seuli might visit instead; Dr Seuli who made a statement to the cops which inferred she was crazy and implicated Logan in a murder. Hana closed her eyes and prayed for Dr Francis and his octogenarian bedside manner.

  “What’s up, Linc?” Will’s face peered through the door, Phoenix still riding in his lap like the queen with her legs crossed and arms folded. Wiri held two bananas, one in each hand.

  The stable manager glanced back at the door and shook his head. “Take the kids away,” he said. “He might throw up when he wakes.”

  Will nodded and nudged Phoenix. “Hop off kōtiro,” he said. “It’s Macky’s turn.” As Phoenix rolled down the front of the chair grumbling, Will ignored Wiri’s protestations of fairness and held his arms out for Hana’s baby. “We’ll go to the swings,” he stated, brooking no argument and the objections halted, replaced by childish whoops of excitement.

  Hana handed Mac over, settling him on the old man’s knee. He got eye contact with her, promising he’d be careful. She held her breath until she heard his chair grinding over the gravel, the ramp safely navigated.

  “Won’t that baby fall out of his wheelchair?” the stable manager asked as he stripped Caleb’s body out of his jacket and lifted his scruffy tee shirt.

  Hana shook her head and rushed over to help. “No, Mac’s ridden with him since he was born. He knows to hold on.” Together they pulled the tee shirt over the boy’s head. Caleb groaned and Hana stroked his cheek. “It’s all right, love. Help’s coming.” She squatted next to the bed and glanced over at the imposing man in the process of running water onto a cold flannel in the ensuite bathroom. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “I think he’s reacting to the antibiotics,” the stable manager said. He bathed Caleb’s hot forehead with the flannel, a frown on his face. “How long does it take to get here from the surgery?”

  “It depends who’s coming,” Hana said, chewing her lip. “Dr Francis could be ages. I thought my brother, Mark might help but apparently he’s still out with Alfred.”

  “Where’s the medication he’s on?” the man said.

  “In the car. I’ll get it.” Hana’s boot heels clicked as she ran along the deck and down the ramp. The gravel scrunched underfoot and she sped along the lane to the main car park and unlocked the passenger door. The white pharmacy bag lay in the foot well where Caleb dropped it and she snatched it up and locked her car before powering back to the motel room. Her companion spewed the contents onto the bed next to Caleb, an array of boxes and bottles bouncing on the comforter. He sorted through them with deft hands, throwing the pain killers aside and examining the antibiotics.

  “Could he be on something else?” he demanded, squinting to read the tiny writing ordering Caleb to take two tablets every six hours with food. “A drug you don’t know about?”

  “I don’t know,” Hana said. “I only met him the other day and that wasn’t conducive to questions about addictions.” She hissed with annoyance at herself, wondering if she’d bitten off way more than she could chew. “Look, he’s been in hospital for days, so anything he’s got on him came from there. I doubt he’s got other drugs or the energy to take them.”

  “Bloody stupid bringing someone you don’t know around your kids,” the man bit, his tone barbed.

  Hana swallowed, feeling his chastisement and turning the guilt into defensive anger. “I don’t know you!” she spat. “Maybe you should leave.”

  The brown eyes turned in her direction, sparkling in challenge with lighter flecks gathered around the irises. “Your husband knows me just fine,” he replied.

  “Lucky him,” Hana muttered. “But I didn’t think he employed assholes.”

  “Equal opportunities,” he said, his tone lighter. “I’m in a minority group.”

  “Whatever!” Hana stroked Caleb’s hot forehead and felt the dampness left from the flannel as the stable manager went to soak it again.

  “Lincoln,” the man said, placing it on Caleb’s forehead with care. He stepped back and wiped his hands on his jeans.

  “What?” Hana’s brow furrowed in confusion as she reached for Caleb’s floppy hand, wondering what a South Island city had to do with her current predicament.

  “My name.” The stable manager stuck out a damp hand and Hana stared at it. Big knuckles and a bent index finger moved closer and she let go of Caleb and stood. “Lincoln. It’s my name. I’m not an asshole and I’d like to start again with you.” His lips twitched with a nervousness he managed to keep hidden most of the time and he jerked his hand. “Come on, put me out of my misery. Please.”

  Hana stared at the giant hand and then raised her own, allowing it to be enclosed in the warm, damp palm. “Hana,” she said. “I’m the spokesperson for the asshole jury and I’m afraid they’re still out.”

  The tanned skin around the brown eyes crinkled in amusement. “Nice to meet you, Hana.”

  “I’m gonna chuck!” Caleb’s slurred speech caused them to leap apart and Lincoln dragged the limp teenager to the ensuite, holding him up over the toilet as he threw up for the best part of twenty minutes.

  Chapter 13

  Lincoln

  “Dr Haines.” Hana let go of Caleb’s hand and took a step back as though guilty of making him sick. Lincoln sat in the armchair nearest the door and Hana watched as his body stiffened, his face channelling pure dismay.

  “Hi, Hana.” Fiona Haines breezed through the ranch slider and nodded her thanks to the retreating receptionist. The room remained silent as the sound of Marla’s high heels clopped along the deck and scrunched through the gravel back to her post. Fiona looked from Hana to Lincoln and back again, her face maintaining a cool mask of capability and calm. “Is this the patient?”

  Hana nodded and stared at Lincoln, noting his sudden discomfort and the way he squirmed in the armchair. “I’ll head off,” he said and Hana held up her hand.

  “No. Stay. We might need help to move him and you went through his pills. You thought it might be a reaction to the antibiotics.”

  Fiona raised her eyebrows but kept her inner thoughts private.

  “We didn’t Google it or anything,” Hana added, her green eyes wide. “I did that once for a cold sore and convinced myself I had all sorts of things wrong with me.” Her laugh sounded false in the awkward silence, the atmosphere hanging like a heavy curtain. Nervous hands fluttered by her side as Hana missed the weight of her quiet son in her arms, realising how often she hid her outward signs of distress by fiddling with his cardigan or patting his back. She wondered if she needed him more than he needed her.

  “Where’s his paperwork from the hospital?” Fiona’s lips moved and Hana saw Lincoln’s eyes flick to her face.

  “What?”

  “His discharge papers. Where are they?”

  “I don’t know.” Hana lurched for the paper bag. “Weren’t they in here?” She upended it and a receipt for the prescription fluttered down alone. “I don’t know then.” She waved her arms towards the stable manager. “Lincoln, check Caleb’s jacket.”

  The tall man lumbered across to the chair onto which he’d slung Caleb’s outer layers. He shook his head after rifling through the pockets. “Nothing here except an old photo.”

  Hana watched as large fingers unfolded the shiny paper and Lincoln grunted disinterest. He refolded it and shoved it back into an inside pocket, dropping the scruffy jacket onto the chair. His eyes strayed towards the door and then back to Hana, his expression appealing for release. She shook her head, needing him to stay as a buffer between the doctor and her. Mac’s obvious deafness created a knot in Hana’s chest and made her want to sob with abandon outside on
the gravel. If Lincoln left her alone with Fiona, she might ask how it was going and Hana knew she’d cry.

  “Sick!” Caleb lurched upright again on the bed and Lincoln hauled the boy back over to the toilet. Hana closed her eyes and droned out the sounds of dry retching with noises from inside her own head as she recited her schedule for the day. Feed the kids; put the washing on the line; ring her other children; start packing for Hamilton and talk to Wiri’s father; the job’s list ran like a chant.

  “Are you all right, Hana?” Fiona’s voice cut through the list and Hana jumped.

  “Fine. Just busy.” She exhaled in a rush. “I haven’t heard from the hospital and I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Fiona Haines cocked her head to one side and observed Hana. “I wouldn’t dream of discussing your private medical concerns with other people present.” Glancing around the room, she oozed professionalism and control. “That would make me a terrible doctor, Hana.”

  “Sorry.” Hana wrung her hands and wished Caleb would finish his extended barf so she could escape. “Does he need to go to hospital?”

  “I don’t believe so.” Fiona shook her head. “I’m sure he’s reacting to one of the pain killers. It’s a known side effect. I’ll take him off that and prescribe something else.”

  Hana nodded and watched her children on the play park in the distance. The green lawn stretched out on the other side of the motel units like a glossy carpet. Mac sat on Will’s knee and let himself be wheeled around the swings. Hana saw the baby’s auburn fluff disturbing in the breeze and her fingers itched to stroke it back from his soft forehead.

  Hana felt Logan’s presence before she heard or saw him, knowing he’d entered her air space through some peculiar connection between their souls. As he skipped up the ramp and trod the boards to the ranch slider, he found Hana already turned towards the door, gnawing on her lower lip in distress. “What’s going on?” He occupied the room from the entrance, his personality filling the space around him and sucking out the oxygen.

  “Caleb’s sick.” Hana’s brow creased with concern, more for Logan’s reaction than Caleb’s discomfort. “I’ll pay for the doctor,” she added, watching as Logan’s eyes flashed with danger at her presumption.

  “No need.” Fiona turned a dazzling smile on Hana. “I’ll follow the paper trail back to the original ACC claim at the hospital and add it to that.”

  Logan’s gaze grazed the doctor’s attractive face and then returned to Hana. “A word,” he said, jerking his head towards the door and retreating outside. Hana gulped and followed, feeling chastened and foolish. Logan didn’t want the responsibility of Caleb and as another bout of dry retching filled the air, Hana sensed her husband’s frustration. She covered the space with fairy footsteps like a child delaying punishment.

  “I know, I know.” She raised her hands palm upwards in supplication, detesting the whine in her voice. “I said he’d be no trouble and already he’s barfing up his guts. I’m sorry. You were right and I was wrong.” Hana took a breath and opened her mouth to continue, prevented by the soft lips which covered hers.

  Logan’s eyes narrowed in a lazy grin as he smoothed her chin with his thumb and kissed her again, stoking his desire at the same time as silencing her. “Anyone ever tell you that you’d be crap under torture?” He smirked, pulling her into line with his body and ran large hands into the small of her back and down over her buttocks. “I haven’t said anything yet and already you’re confessing like a nark.”

  “I thought you seemed cross.” Hana sulked, pushing her face into Logan’s broad chest. “It’s called mitigation.”

  Logan’s short laugh irritated her more. “It’s called verbal diarrhoea, babe. And it changes nothing. He’s trouble and you know it.”

  Hana shrugged, reluctant to concede his point. “Is that what you came to say? I told you so.” She pulled away, tugging against the strength in her husband’s fingers as he snaked them around her wrists.

  “No.” His grey eyes held mischief and he poked his tongue into a corner of his mouth. Hana watched its lazy trail along his bottom lip and sighed.

  “What then?”

  “I spoke to the new headmaster of The Waikato Presbyterian School for Boys earlier today. I need to travel down to Hamilton ready to start next Monday, but you can follow when you’re ready.”

  “Next Monday?” Hana swallowed and the colour drained from her face. “But what about Wiri? Did you speak to Nev?”

  “He’s coming with us.”

  “Nev?” Hana pulled a face laced with horror and Logan smiled.

  “No babe. Wiri.”

  “How? What about school and stuff? We can’t just kidnap him for a term and hope nobody notices.”

  “We’ll take him to the primary up the road from the boys’ school and Phoe can join the kindy next door. Then you’ll just have Mac to worry about.”

  Hana swallowed. “Yeah. Only Mac to worry about,” she repeated, giving more of herself away than she wanted. She closed her eyes against the sound of Caleb retching again. “That kid’s gonna burst something.”

  “Why did you call the lady doctor?” Logan asked, pulling Hana close and running his hands over her back.

  “I didn’t. I asked Marla to call Dr Francis, but she turned up. Why?”

  Logan shrugged. “No reason. I just assumed she’d avoid all contact with us.”

  “Why?” Hana leaned back and narrowed her eyes. “Is she yet another adoring female of the Du Rose whānau?” She shook her head, resenting her husband’s peculiar magnetism and the way women flocked around him like flies. Feeling insecure, Hana snaked her fingers under Logan’s shirt and found his soft, olive skin. Despite his limited clothing he felt toasty warm and she made him jump with her cool fingers. Her palm caressed the rugged skin over the scar which ran from hip to armpit on his right side, not daunted by its ugliness, but content with its attachment to him.

  “Mrs Du Rose?” The doctor’s voice sounded soft as she broke into Hana’s moment and she experienced a flash of resentment. Turning to meet the enquiring eyes, Hana fixed a fake smile onto her face. Fiona Haines glanced back into the motel room and then addressed her as though Logan didn’t exist. “Caleb should stop vomiting soon. I’ve swapped the Tramadol for something less damaging to his stomach and given him an injection. Get more antibiotics down him as soon as he’s able to sip water and monitor him.”

  “Thanks,” Hana replied, irritated when Fiona’s eyes strayed to Logan.

  “I’m surprised at you,” the doctor said, a bite in her tone. “I thought whānau stuck together.”

  Confused, Hana looked from the doctor to her husband and back, knowing she’d missed something important in the leaden atmosphere. Logan shrugged off the rebuke with his usual brand of casual disdain. “And that’s what is happening here. I’m taking care of my family.”

  “Leave it, Fi.” Lincoln appeared at the ranch slider and shot a nervous glance at Logan. “I’m grateful for a job and a roof over my head. Please leave it. I’ll stay out of your way, I promise, wahine.”

  The doctor snatched up her medical bag from just inside the doorway, bashing Linc’s legs with it as she yanked it through the gap. “Goodbye, Mrs Du Rose,” she said, forcing seriousness into her expression. “Call me if you need to, or bring Caleb to the surgery and I’ll see him there.”

  “Thanks.” Hana shrugged Logan’s arm off her shoulder. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Logan’s grip around her upper arm shocked her and she stared at her husband aghast. The slight shake of his head warned her not to disobey him and she relented. “Sorry, I’m sure you know your way back. Thanks for coming out here. I’ll call you if there’s any change.”

  Fiona Haines gave a curt nod and set off along the deck in her heels, watched by two brooding males and one confused female. As soon as she left earshot, Hana rounded on the men and fixed her hands on her hips. “What was that about?” she demanded. Logan looked smug but Linc cringed, his hu
ge body seeming to knot up and shrink. The sound of wailing from the play park halted the need for an immediate answer and Hana glared at the men. “One of you can stay with Caleb while I sort that out!” She jerked a pointed index finger in the direction of her daughter who lay flat on her face under the swing.

  Hana stomped down the ramp and headed towards the rising volume and heard Logan retort with a laugh in his voice, “That will be your job then, mate.” She heard his familiar footfall on the deck and turned as she scooped Phoenix off the floor, seeing him stride away. Logan Du Rose ran his hands through his dark hair before shoving his cowboy hat back on his head. She felt his amusement from across the lawn. Just as well he didn’t see the abusive hand gesture which his new stable manager jabbed towards his retreating back. Linc saw Hana’s gaze fixed on him and let the hand fall to his side, walking back into the motel room and closing the door behind him.

  Chapter 14

  The Haines Dilemma

  “Sorry for this.” Caleb sat in an armchair with his leg raised on a coffee table. A pillow softened the surface and he looked sorry for himself, his hair mussed and a downy stubble growth gracing his chin. “I didn’t know it would be so bad.”

  “It’s fine.” Hana winced as Phoenix gripped her neck and shifted her weight to look at Caleb’s plaster cast.

  “I draw on it?” Phoenix asked, pushing her face into her mother’s, her little chest hitching. Hana kissed her nose and shook her head, reaching down to stop the oozing graze on the child’s knee from touching her sweater and setting off another bout of painful tears.

  “It’s too sore, baby. Ask again when Mr Caleb feels better.”

  “Okay.” Phoenix pushed her small thumb between her lips and laid her head on Hana’s shoulder, closing her eyes against the world.

  “I need to feed the children.” Hana chewed her lower lip. “But the doctor said to monitor you. I’m not sure how that’s gonna work.” She cast around the motel room for a solution and her gaze rested on Lincoln. He put his hands up in self-defense.