"Oh, John," Kylena sobbed but could not force out any more words.
John just clung her in close and kissed her hair until her shaking subsided and she turned a tear stained face up to his. He reached for a blanket and tenderly wrapped it around her shoulders while she flattened her skirt down.
"He never managed to do it," she sobbed. "You arrived in time." She remained in his arms but her whole body still shook with shock.
"You're safe now," John replied. He reached across and kissed Kylena as she turned her head up to meet his.
There was an oath outside the door, a crash of the door being hitting the wall and Harold appeared rubbing his jaw.
"The bastard was only faking. He got away."
An engine roared to life out the front, there was a howl of tires and gravel hitting metal and the sound of a vehicle accelerating away. This was followed by eerie silence.
"Let him go. I'll ring the police," John said and gazed into the young woman's eyes. "We'll get you to hospital, my love.” He turned to Harold. "Can you ask Fiona to go home and look after the girls?" Now the action was over his face was as pale as Kylena's.
"Right!" Harold grunted. “But I'll stay around in case he return." He smiled at the shaking woman.” Don't worry, Kylena. I'd doubt if that pervert would want to tackle John again.”
"Thank you, Harold," Kylena whispered. "If you two hadn't arrived." Her lip dropped, she erupted into shuddering tears and buried her head into her lover's chest.
*
At the accident and emergency centre of the Palmerston North Hospital, John guided Kylena through the two sets of swinging doors to a waiting room chair and walked up to the reception counter.
"My friend here has been hurt," he told the nurse standing there. "She's cut rather badly."
The young nurse glanced up from her computer terminal and stared at the man in front of her. "I believe you need assistance too, sir," she remarked.
That was when John realized his arm was throbbing in pain. The right sleeve as soaked in blood and drips were landing on the counter top. Kylena looked no better with her blouse covered in blood and eyes already swollen. The earlier wound on her cheek had opened and more blood from a forehead cut seeped onto her eyebrow before dripping down a tear-stained cheek. She stood up to walk over to John at the counter but collapsed back into the chair.
"A stabbing and possible rape," the nurse reported through her intercom. "Can we have immediate assistance, please?"
A moment later a man in a white coat appeared and walked up to the pair "Let's get you both through to a cubical." he said in a dry voice. "I'd say there’s a little stitching to be done."
*
Kylena was admitted to the hospital but John had his arm stitched, other wounds patched and discharged. He waited until a nurse assured him Kylena was to be given a sedative and would be asleep until early morning.
"Come back then," she advised. "She will be fine."
"Sure," replied John and strolled out to the deserted car lot. It was close to midnight and he did not feel like returning home so rung Fiona on the mobile phone. After reporting that they were both okay he strolled across the road to a motel where he spent the night. As early as possible in the morning he was back at the ward to find Kylena bandaged like a balaclava with only her swollen, blackened eyes and puffed cut lips exposed. She watched him walk in and bring a chair to the bed.
"You're early," she said in a neutral voice.
"I stayed across the road," he replied and bent over to kiss her but the response was a mere peck.
"I see," John retorted and took Kylena's hand. "You think I am disturbed because you were subject to a brutal attack?"
Her eyes met his and she nodded. “I’m tarnished goods, John," she whispered.
"That is utter rubbish?" he retorted. "You were a victim. I'm proud of how you handled the situation."
Kylena's eyes fixed on his. "You don't understand," she added. "That man wasn't just a stranger.”
"No?" John studied her closely. "Who was he?"
"If I tell you and you want to walk away, I'll understand," she replied, her voice still serious.
"Don't be silly!" he replied. "Why would you think I'd do that?"
"I haven't been honest to you, John," Her eyes were wide and, without warning, awash with tears. “The man's name is Mic Werner and he was my husband. I divorced him two years ago and he traced me, somehow."
In sobbing half sentences she continued. "We met at university. He was one of those macho guys, great rugby player, liked the booze and swept me off my feet. The trouble started only a month after we were married but I clung on another eighteen months, hoping he'd get better." She shuddered. "He was insanely jealous and more violent as time went by." Kylena's voice dropped to a whisper as she continued to tell everything of the previous five years. "So I'm not that innocent young virgin of your fantasies, John but a used woman from a failed marriage.
"I see so what does it make me." John sat on the bedside and took her hand. "My marriage was a sham, too Kylena." He placed a finger on her lips when she attempted to talk. "Hear me out. Anne and I never lived as man and wife for two years before her death." He shrugged, "It was one of my original reasons for planning to come here. I thought a new start might help her but she became ill and I clung on for the girls' sake."
"Was that all? "Kylena whispered.
"She was a female version of your husband, I guess." He waved his hand. "No, she wasn't violent but had an alcohol problem." He bent forward and kissed the young woman on the lips. "So if you can put up with this old hack..." he said.
Kylena wiped her eyes and smiled. “Would you like to come in again, John?" she asked
He frowned. "What?"
"Go out, turn around and come in again."
"Well, if you wish." He shrugged and walked out of the ward. "Hi Kylena," he said when he reappeared and reached for her hand.
The response this time was entirely different. She reached up, swung her arms around his neck and gave him a bruising kiss. “I love you, John," she whispered and flopped back on the pillow.
"What happens if I go out and come in a third time?" he chortled.
"This is a public hospital so you'd better not. I must say you look a bit cut up, yourself."
"Yeah," John replied as he ran fingers down a cut on his face and the bandage on his arm. “But you look like a punching bag gone wrong."
"I know." She smiled." I'm too scared to even look in a mirror. From the inside I feel like a throbbing balloon. The doctor thinks one of my ribs is broken but all they can do is strap it up."
John smiled down at her, bent forward and ran a finger over her lips before he spoke again. "Oh one thing," he said offhandedly.
"Yes."
"I love you too, Kylena and don't you forget it. Nothing you told me will change that, one little bit."
*
CHAPTER 7
John's conversation with Kylena was interrupted when a little girl came running in the hospital room with her arms out. "Daddy," she yelled. "Are you okay?"
John turned at the sound. "Helen! How did you get here?" He picked his daughter up, swung her around, deposited a kiss on her cheek and placed her on the end of the bed.
"Harold drove the Land Rover in. Grandma and Julie are here too but they're talking to the nurse in the corridor." She turned and flung her arms around Kylena. "You look awful, Miss Delton," she exclaimed.
"And why aren't you at school?" Kylena replied and winked at John.
Helen bit on her lip. "We rung Mrs. O'Reilly. She's taking the class today. Grandma and her both said it was okay to come and see you."
"And it is," laughed Kylena. She glanced across to see Fiona, Julie and Harold walk in the room.
"My God, Kylena!" Julie gasped. "You look a mess."
"That's what your sister said," Kylena replied. "It's great to see you, Julie. You too, Fiona and Harold but you didn't have to come all this way."
" I beli
eve I said the same words a few weeks back when you visited me," Harold retorted. "So if it was good enough for you ..." He broke into a grin, "I didn't think I'd be back at this place so soon."
"And I didn't thank you, Harold," Kylena replied and reached out to squeeze his hand.
The elderly man flushed and nodded. "When you aren't even safe in your own home," he muttered and stood back to allow Fiona through.
"And don't you say I look terrible," Kylena warned.
"Only your black eyes." Fiona smiled and handed the patient a huge bunch of flowers. "I'm just so thrilled it didn't turn out worse. To think..." She caught John's slight shake of the head and coughed. "Well, you know."
"I do," Kylena whispered. Her eyes found John again and a silent message of love travelled across that sterile hospital room.
*
After being discharged, it took very little persuasion for her to agree to spend a few days at John's place.
"After all," he said. "The place is full of females and we have five bedrooms. It's a pity for all that space to go unused."
"Only for a few days," Kylena replied. "Think what Linda McLean will say."
"Yes. She could shift her kids to Hunterville School in protest, I guess."
Though the head bandage had been removed, she was still on painkillers, toddled around like a little old woman and ordered to have a week off work. Professional stitching had been performed on her cheek but an ugly red line still ran from the bridge of her nose across under the eye. Her lips were swollen and she could hardly see out of two black eyes. She also had a gash on the crown of her head; round finger bruises on the arms and other bruises across her body.
The news of the attack spread through the district spread like wild fire. Most locals put it down to a local druggie who had probably seen their teacher around and had planned the attack. Details were enhanced by the local gossip line, their teacher had been held for hours and subjected to multiple rapes, she'd been gang raped by three men, John had shot the attacker, you know how trigger happy Americans are? ... And so it went on but the truth that the attacker was Kylena's ex-husband never emerged.
Cards, gifts and offers of help poured in as the locals showed their support and Kylena's standing in the community was enhanced. She was now one of them and in a country district, one looked after their own.
Also, for perhaps the first time, the new American family was accepted. As Linda McLean told a neighbour on the telephone hot line, “You know they're really like us; sure they drawl their words and John insists on wearing those horrible coloured shirts and cowboy hats but the girls are so friendly... they must be rolling in money but they don't flaunt it. You know, they paid cash for poor old Hamish's farm. John probably rolled the greenbacks out of his back pocket but I like him..."
*
It was three in the morning when Mic Werner crept back across the fields to the schoolhouse. He had followed Kylena's progress with a few discrete calls to the hospital and knew she'd been discharged .The new lock on the door was made light work of and he headed for the bedroom. However, whatever his evil intentions were, they never eventuated. The hall light blazed on and a police constable stepped out of the bathroom with a vicious dog at his side.
"I would not move one muscle, Michael Jason Werner," he said. "Except, of course, to place your hands wide against the wall. Randy here takes an exception to low lives who prey on innocent women. "
As if to support his master, the large German shepherd bared his teeth and growled from deep within his throat.
At that moment, though, Kylena was sound asleep in her own upstairs room at Top Oasis.
For several days there were many nervous women in the district and the news that Mic Werner had been arrested back in the schoolhouse further undermined the security of the valley. Doors, usually left unlocked were now bolted and security alarms, floodlights and window catches installed in many homes. As well, some farmers shifted their dog kennels closer to the house. Gradually though, the event moved into the back of everyone's minds and Long Valley Road returned to normal.
*
It was Saturday evening; the fire in the living room had reduced to a red glow. Fiona and the girls had retired for the evening to leave John and Kylena alone. Instead of her usual casual clothes, she had returned from her bath dressed in a modern skirt, white sweater that emphasized rather than hid her figure.
"Did you like the supper?" the young woman whispered after John moved his coffee mug and empty plate aside.
"Loved it but I still don't know how you had percolated coffee and hot scones waiting."
"An automatic oven and hot point." She grinned. "I just set it to the time I reckoned we'd want supper." She fixed John with her eyes and turned serious. "What was your wife like? " she suddenly asked. "Oh I know she died of breast cancer and heard she was unfaithful but you never really mention her, John."
"For ten years my marriage was everything one could ask for," John replied in a far-away voice. "I never suspected she was unfaithful. It was quite a shock. "
"Tell me to mind my own business if you wish but if you'd like to tell me about your wife, I'm interested."
John fixed his eyes on her and sipped his coffee. "No, I would like to talk," he whispered. "It was a part of my life, I have the girls as a result and she will always be their mother." He grimaced. "When I first found out she was sleeping around it was almost as bad as later when I learnt she had cancer."
"Go on," Kylena added in a quiet voice.
"I belonged to the Lions Club and it all came out after one of our monthly meetings. I remember it was mid winter and well below freezing," he began ...
*
After supper the members had begun to drift off home when Rick Tucker, a local garage proprietor and keen club member came up to John.
"Can I have a couple of words, John," he said as the others waved goodbye and disappeared into the winter night.
"Sure, Rick. What's on your mind?" John replied. He liked Rick, a forward straightforward fellow who always did an excellent job with the club projects.
"Its...err...sort of a personal problem," Unusually for him, Rick couldn't look John in the eyes.
John frowned. He knew he owed Rick's firm quite an amount for repairs to his vehicles and farm machinery but always paid at the end of the month. No, that wouldn't worry his friend. "Tell me, Rick, what’s troubling you? You know I like everything in the open?"
"Shit man, it's damned hard." Hazel eyes switched to John's. "What say we nip down to the bar at the corner for a beer?"
"Okay," replied John with a concerned look, "I'll just lock up See you down there."
The tiny neighbourhood bar was mainly empty on this cold Tuesday night. After buying a jug of beer for them both, Rick picked a small corner table where they couldn't be overheard and sat down.
"Well," said John with an edge of expectation creeping into his voice. "There's something obviously wrong. What is it?"
Rick drank his glass of lager in almost one gulp, wiped foam off his moustache and stared at John. "Do you know Allan Ellis, my mechanic?"
"That bearded guy who services my vehicles?"
"That's him," replied Rick quietly. "I don't really know how to tell you this but...." He glanced away and poured himself another glass of beer.
"For God's sake, spit it out, Rick," John snapped.
"It's your wife, John.... Anne."
John's face turned a shade white. "What about my wife?"
"Last week all the boys around work were chatting at lunch time when Allan said he had had a great lay with your wife.”
"What?" John whispered.
Rick coughed in embarrassment, "He reckoned he's screwed your wife."
John stood up and leaned forward with his knuckles turning white as he pushed them against the table. "...And I suppose this isn't just a wild tale between the boys?"
"I'm afraid not, John. Afterwards I took him aside and grilled him. He gave me the full details Appare
ntly it happened last week when he returned Anne's auto."
"The bastard," John growled. "By God, where is he. I'll...." He never finished the sentence but stood up staring wildly at Rick with his fists tightening and loosening.
The garage proprietor stood and guided John back to his seat. "Sit down, John. Have another drink."
With his mouth and eyes looking like steel, John stared at the other man. Then he sort of slumped and sat down with his head on his hands.
"I'm sorry you had to hear this way, John," continued Rick. "I told Allan if he said one more word about it he'd be fired. I think I scared him enough to shut up."
"Thanks, Rick," John wiped his forehead and stared at his companion. "I know she's been a bit depressed lately but I never suspected this."
Rick quietly stood, placed a hand on John's shoulder and walked across the bar to refill the jug.
When he returned John looked up and poured himself another drink. "I know she gets bored with Helen to look after. " He spoke quietly, " She's our three year old, you know..."
"I know," replied Rick kindly. "I've been through it, John. Joan and I got divorced a couple of years back. I still have nightmares about it."
"Thanks," said John and stood up. "I'll be off now."
*
That Friday afternoon, just before closing time, John walked into Rick's garage with a dark expression across his brow.
"I want to speak with your mechanic, Rick. Where is he?"
Rick paled. “I wouldn't advise it, John," he muttered. "Just leave it alone."
"Where is he, Mr. Tucker?" asked John quietly. "I'm here to talk, nothing more."
"He's out back, I'll call him."
"Don't worry," replied John. "I'll find him."
He walked through the service entrance door and up to a man with his head under a car's hood.
John tapped him on the shoulder. "Allan Ellis, I believe."
Ellis stood up and wiped his greasy hands on a rag. "That's me, bud. I haven't quite finished yet. Be another twenty minutes, I'd say."
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