by Bowes, K T
“Kuia Phoenix?” Logan halted and dismay crossed his features. “No, she didn’t. Did she?” He ran a nervous hand across his jaw and Hana smirked. “You bloody liar. I know what’s in that diary, Mrs Du Rose; stock prices and land values for the early 1970s. Why do you think I gave you that one, huh?”
“I hate you.” Hana pouted. “I looked forward to reading it and you’ve robbed me.”
“Ah, poor baby.” Logan leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Get rid of the interlopers, Hana. I’m kinda over it.”
“You have no sense of charity!” Hana shouted at his retreating back.
“Marry a priest then!” he yelled back, his feet pounding down the stairs.
Hana sighed and flopped back on the bed, listening to the sound of the school bell tolling from across the field.
Chapter 51
More Interlopers
“Logan.” Hana blocked the front door with her body and placed her hand on her husband’s chest, fingers splayed in warning. “Don’t freak out.”
Logan groaned and turned his back on her, running both hands through his hair and standing on the edge of the porch step. “What now? I’m tired, Hana. I want to eat, take a long shower and crawl into bed with a book.”
“Ooh, what book?” Distracted, Hana tried to peer round his shoulder. “Will I like it?”
“No! What’s going on, wahine?”
Hana winced. “Well, you know you told me to get rid of our extended family?”
Logan ground his teeth. “Yeah.” He dragged the word out like a curse and shoved his thumbs in his back pockets. His sigh spoke volumes.
Hana took a step forward and stroked his broad chest, pushing her fingers into the crinkles of his shirt and choosing her words with care. “Nev’s here. I said he could stay.”
“What?” Logan closed his eyes and looked up at the darkening sky. “Why?”
“Don’t be angry.” Hana’s green eyes widened and she put on her most cute face as she rested her chin against his chest and stared up at him. “He’s anxious about Anahera. She’s still missing.”
Logan shrugged. “So, who’s sorting the farm?”
“Toby.” Hana pressed her cheek against him and snuggled in, looking for validation. “I did my best, Logan. Please give me a little credit.”
“Why? Instead of getting rid of anyone; you’ve collected someone else.”
“Not on purpose.” Hana pouted. “And anyway, Caleb’s gone. He took his bag of clothes and left. Must’ve gone during the night.”
“Where’s he gone?”
“You don’t really care. You’re trying to ascertain if he’s coming back.”
Logan snorted. “True. It’s fine, babe. You did good.” He put an arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her face. “I’m starving.”
Hana rubbed her palm along his tight stomach. “Good job one of the interlopers cooked dinner for you then, isn’t it?”
“Okay, okay!” Logan buried his face in her hair and sniffed. “Geez, you’re hot, wahine. I just want you all to myself.”
“I know. Soon.” Hana stepped across the threshold and allowed Logan to follow her. The family sat at the kitchen table and Nev rose as Logan walked in.
“Hey, thanks bro and to your missus.” He jerked his dark head towards Hana. “You know why I’m here?”
“Yep.” Logan sank into the chair next to his daughter and she patted his thigh and gave him puppy eyes.
“Luff you, Papa,” she whispered.
Logan’s smile spread across his face and he leaned in and kissed her upturned lips. Across the table, Wiri slid from his chair and plonked himself on Nev’s knee. Hana shot worried looks in his direction, pleased for the contact with his father, but fearful of how to clear up the emotional fallout when he left again.
“Don’t worry so,” Leslie hissed, handing Hana a plate to pass to Logan.
She nodded in return and served the remaining plates with a fake smile. Half way through the meal Nev’s phone rang and he jerked in surprise, tippling poor Wiri sideways. “Sorry, son,” he muttered and went into the hallway to take the call.
“Who’s that?” Wiri asked, his voice shrill.
“Somebody for your dad,” Hana answered. “Sit on your own chair to eat, sweetheart. Let Daddy enjoy his food.”
Wiri shifted onto his own vacant seat, his eyes never leaving the closed door. Hana felt her appetite leave, pretending not to notice as Phoenix’s little hand popped over the side of her plate and stole the carrots one at a time. She gave her husband a watery smile above their daughter’s head and he nodded in understanding, anticipating the revival of Wiri’s abandonment nightmares and the bedwetting.
Leslie fed Mac in his high chair and he ate, humming to himself and clasping his hand around his throat to feel the vibrations. Hana smiled at her little boy and he beamed back, closing his eyes and putting his whole face into the action. “Beautiful boy,” she mouthed to him and he mimicked her, opening and closing his mouth and tipping his head from one side to the other. He made no sound, but his enjoyment in Hana’s attention induced a blossoming warmth in her chest.
“Still nothing.” Nev shoved his phone into his jeans and sat at the table, his forehead creasing in irritation as Wiri crept back onto his knee and set to work on his father’s peas. “I’ve looked everywhere.”
“Have you checked under your bed?” Wiri asked. “I lose everything under there.” He eyed Hana sideways, repeating the well-worn mantra of the last few months. “There’s no monsters under there. God doesn’t let them come near his children.”
“Hmmmn.” Neville wasn’t listening and Hana glanced at Logan and receiving no silent glance of solidarity, stared at a knot on the surface of the table. “The charge nurse said someone visited and she’s seemed subdued ever since.”
“Hana visited.” Wiri pointed her fork at her and all eyes turned in her direction.
“I didn’t see her,” Hana answered, her tone defensive. “She looked busy, so I left. Your mother didn’t know I’d been.”
When Mac sneezed and coated the side of her face with squashed peas and gravy, Hana excused herself for a shower, her heart heavy with foreboding and dread.
Chapter 52
Night-time Antics
Logan dealt with the bedtime routine, accepting Nev’s feckless assistance with Wiri. He sank onto the double bed as Hana finished drying her hair. “I don’t know why he came here,” he said, putting his arms behind his head. “It’s obvious he doesn’t wanna be here.”
“He doesn’t care about the fallout when he walks away either.” Hana pushed the brush through her dusky curls. She turned to face Logan. “I’m worried about Lincoln turning up again.” Her lips twisted as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. “He’s scary.”
“Don’t worry about him.” Logan wrinkled his nose. “He won’t come back.”
“He will.” Hana fixed her hair into a clip and her nightdress flowed around her slender body as she moved, clambering onto the bed to kneel next to Logan. “He’ll come when you’re not here.”
Logan shook his head. “He won’t, Hana.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Have you seen him?”
“Of course I’ve bloody seen him!” Logan’s grey eyes flashed with anger. “I funded his defense and gave him a home and a job when he got back. He repays me by threatening my marriage with a crock of crap. Don’t worry about him; he’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
Logan swore and rubbed his eyes. “Don’t know and don’t care, Hana.” He groaned and ran his hands over his face. “It took me exactly twenty minutes to sort out that gang of idiots with Asher and I used the rest of the time to drive up to the hotel and rearrange Lincoln’s attitude towards me. The boys made sure he left.”
“Oh.” Hana waited for details and got none. She lifted Logan’s hands up to her face for inspection, seeing the blue bruising around his knuckles. “Aren’t you scared you’ll meet your match one day?” she asked,
her voice soft and fearful. “Then what will I do?”
“Become a very rich widow.” Logan smiled, his expression wistful. “Go kiss your kids. Watch they don’t think you’re a ghost in that granny nightie.”
“Ha ha ha. I’ve been a widow once already, thanks. I don’t want to do it again.” Hana put as much sarcasm into her voice as she could muster.
In the children’s bedroom, Nev looked like the most awkward storyteller she’d ever seen. He sat on the end of Wiri’s bed like a sasquatch in a bean bag, all masculinity and no soft edges. Hana kissed a sleeping Mac and Phoenix, smiling at both her babies sucking their thumbs beneath the covers. She ushered a drooping Wiri into his bed and released Nev back into the wild.
Logan met her outside the bedroom door, running down the hallway pulling on his cowboy boots. “Trouble!” he said to Nev and ran back to the bedroom to collect his jacket and the ute keys. He ignored Hana and she floundered, not sure what to do. The brothers held an impromptu council of war at the bottom of the stairs and Hana panicked, running to the bedroom and pulling on track pants, trainers and a hoodie. Her flowing nightdress took some persuading to lie flat in her pants but she managed it, sneaking through the laundry door and running around the side of the house. Leslie watched her leave. The old matron peered through the kitchen window and shook her head in disbelief at the woman sneaking past. Hana put her finger up to her lips and Leslie shook her fist in return, making her feelings about the expedition clear.
Logan unlocked the ute from the porch, his face turned away as he spoke to Nev. Hana used their delay to hop into the open truck bed behind the rear seats. The air felt cold and she grappled around for something to hold onto. The men didn’t even check the flat bed before climbing into the vehicle and Logan started the engine with a roar from the throttle.
Hana worked hard to keep low, not wanting to be seen through the rear view mirror. She felt grateful for the absence of sharp objects as she swung around on the slippery surface. They roared through Hamilton making myriad turns and she lay on her back staring at the stars and bracing her hands and feet against a toolbox and a wheel arch to keep herself from flying over the side. She moaned with relief as the ute slowed and made another turn, travelling with less urgency downhill. The reflection of the town lights lost their influence on the night sky overhead and bird calls and running water replaced the car noises and street sounds.
Hana peeked her face over the tailgate of the ute and absorbed her surroundings, recognising the car park at Hamilton Gardens. A lone dog walker clambered into his vehicle after pushing an enormous Labradoodle into the passenger seat. He squealed as the wet dog shook off the lake water from his late night swim and Hana suppressed a giggle.
The ute doors slammed and shook the vehicle as the brothers emerged. Logan pulled his jacket down over his bum and rubbed his palms together against the cold, holding the key fob over his shoulder to lock the vehicle. Hana slid towards the edge and waited for them to move away before attempting to clamber over the side and follow. The men walked with confident slowness, unfazed by the dark surroundings and long shadows. Hana slipped her feet over the side and hitched her bottom upwards, pushing herself over the tailgate with a decent shove of her palms against the ridged bed of the truck.
An almighty ripping sound rent the air and made both men turn around, their eyes widening in surprise at the sight of her dangling from the remains of her nightdress which caught around the metal clasp of the toolbox.
“Bloody hell!” Logan sighed. “I’ve seen it all now.”
“A bit of help would be good.” Hana sulked, swinging from the flannelette material.
“You look like a cow being airlifted out of a ditch,” Nev laughed, the mirth disappearing from his face at the expression of rage on Hana’s.
Logan separated her from the frayed edges of her nightie and waited while she tucked the remaining strands into her pants. “What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed at her. “This is no place for you, wahine.”
“Don’t be such a sexist!” she snapped. “If you’d tell me more about what’s happening, I wouldn’t have to sneak.”
Logan fisted his hand in her hair and pulled her face into his chest. “You’re doing my head in, wahine.” She heard the laughter in his voice.
“What’s going on?” she replied, ignoring his rebuke. “Why are we here?”
“Caleb called me.” Logan’s eyes narrowed. “Reckons he’s in trouble and needs help. Asked me to meet him here.”
“He can’t have; he doesn’t own a phone.”
Logan raised a dark eyebrow. “Well, he does now.”
“We’re early. I’ll get under the ute,” Nev said and Hana pulled a face of disgust.
“What? Why?”
“Because he told my bro’ to come alone,” he replied as though he thought her stupid. “But I’m here if there’s trouble.”
“What about me?” She fluttered her lashes at her husband. “I’m not going under the car with him.”
Logan grimaced. “I don’t think they’ll see you as a threat.”
“They? I thought you said just Caleb.”
“It won’t be just Caleb, babe. There’s more to this than you realise.”
Hana pushed but Logan batted off her questions with one word answers which told her little. They waited for half an hour and the evening chilled into the minus figures, making Hana’s teeth chatter in her mouth. Logan leaned back against the tail gate of the ute and sighed, the abandoned water tower looming ahead of him like an albatross. He settled his backside on the bumper and reached into his tight trouser pocket for chewing gum, feeling it soft and warm in his fingers. “Damn!”
Hana wrinkled her nose. “I hate that.”
He nodded and shot her a smile which curved his lips into a slight arc, enough to send her scuttling to his side. “I thought I’d done with all this,” he mused, his eyes narrowing to crinkle the scar beneath his right eye. “I’m too old, babe. I don’t have the same desire to fight.” Logan slipped an arm around her shoulder and gratitude filled her soul.
She nodded. “I know, Logan. But this is different; it’s protecting what’s ours. Phoenix and Macky; they’re defenseless. And we did let Caleb become part of our family. I don’t see that we have a choice.”
Logan folded his arms and twisted his face into a frown. “No more strays, Hana. I can’t do this again. I won’t.”
“Okay,” she promised, surprised to discover she meant it.
Two battered vehicles pulled into the car park and halted opposite the ute. The headlights remained on, blinding the couple as figures slid from the passenger doors and formed a solid wall in front of them. “Nice to finally meet you, Logan Du Rose!” The male voice invoked a strong sense of déjà vu in Hana and she cocked her head to see past the light, failing as her eyes watered in protest. The owner of the voice moved before one of the headlights, remaining as a silhouette. “What? You have nothing to say to me?” The figure stepped forward, features discernible against the blackness.
Logan felt turned to stone next to Hana, every muscle ready to defend them both against attack. Her heart ached for the damage it might do to his vulnerable body and she balled her fists, ready to protect him with her own pathetic means. “Turn the lights off and we can talk like grown-ups.” His tone sounded lazy as though the situation was common-place and normal. He lowered his head to stare at his cowboy boots but Hana saw his eyes raking the opposition for weakness from beneath long, dark eyelashes. “Get back in the ute,” he hissed and she moved backwards enough to detach from him and then froze in position.
The car lights dimmed to only side lights, casting a yellow pall across the area. Hana counted eight bodies including the drivers of both cars. Thick set men, they looked ready for action. The sound of crutches scraping on the rough surface of the car park floor caught her attention and she spotted Caleb to the rear. A strong hand gripped him by the scruff of the neck and he hung there, limp and defeated. Eight and a
half men.
One man stepped forward; dirty blonde hair and olive skin giving him bad-boy good looks. Hana gasped at the carbon copy of Robert Dressler standing between her and Caleb and Logan shot her a concerned glance. “I know you!” she spat, courage bridling in her chest. “You tried to steal my handbag!”
The man nodded, his smile cruel. “Full marks, miss. I used to see you all the time at that fancy school my ma put me in.” He waved an arm behind him and another male stepped forward. “Remember my little bro’?”
Hana’s lips parted at the sight of Flick’s sons. Each possessed the same wary look he once displayed before kindness and safety mellowed him into someone affable and sweet. Hana’s fists balled at her sides and rage blossomed, sending warning flares into her brain. “You made my life a living hell!” She took a step forward, dodging Logan’s outstretched arm. “Your father would be so ashamed of you; he wanted you to be different, to take the better path. Look at you! You kidnap your own brother and call us up threatening to hurt him if we don’t give you what you want. It’s sick! You’re sick!”
Logan let out a heavy sigh and relaxed against the bumper of the ute. Hana felt his irritation emanating towards her in waves but couldn’t stop. She knew he’d given up the moment his legs crossed at the ankles and he let his weight rest against the car; readying himself for the ensuing floor show.
Flick’s eldest son ground his teeth and glared at Hana. “You don’t know my dad.”
“Yeah, I do!” she snapped back. “He’s our friend. He saved my life the day my son was born; he stopped a maniac shooting my baby in the head and put himself on the line. Bobby’s a good man.” She flapped her hand to encompass the gang of burly males, curling her lip back in disgust. “He’d look at you all pumped up with your fist-happy-mates and think you were pathetic. You’ve kidnapped your own half-brother over a dustbin bag full of shonky weed grown by a stupid old man with arthritis.”
“Give us the dope and take the kid.” Metal clanged to the ground as they shoved Caleb forward and he staggered, losing one crutch and balancing on the other with a complete lack of coordination.