Wild About Harry (Hearts of the Outback Book 5)

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Wild About Harry (Hearts of the Outback Book 5) Page 14

by Susanne Bellamy


  Vicky nodded and gave a sad little sniff. “I wanted to put up my poster so she could see it and know I love her to the sky and back. Do you think she’ll know?”

  Harry lifted her off the stool and carried her on his hip down the hallway and into his office. “She knows, darling.”

  They approached his desk and Vicky gasped. “Look, Daddy, my poster! It’s all mended-ed.”

  “Like magic.” Harry knew exactly whose magic was to thank. Only one person in the house could have wrought this kind of miracle overnight. No wonder Bri wasn’t up yet. She must have worked half the night to repair the damage. “I tell you what, how about I take you to kindy today, and when we get home this afternoon, we’ll have Mummy’s birthday party with Bri. Would you like that?”

  Vicky’s eyes shone and she clapped her hands. “Yes, Daddy.”

  ##

  Mavis marched down the front steps and let herself into their car without a backward glance. Tom followed his wife’s progress then turned to Harry. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I’m partly to blame for letting her carry her grief on for so long, but after last night, I’ll get her psychiatric help. Don’t hold it against us, son.”

  “I have no intention of cutting contact between you and Vicky, but I agree; Mavis needs professional help. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  “We’ll visit Linda’s—the cemetery on the way to the airport.” Tom shook Harry’s hand and patted Vicky’s head. “Bye, sweetheart. Your mummy would be very proud of you.” A suspicious sheen glistened in his eyes as he turned and followed his wife to the car.

  Harry kept a hand on Vicky’s shoulder until the car drove off then took her hand. “Okay, we’ll pack your lunch then it’s time for kindy.”

  “Isn’t Bri taking me today?”

  “You know your poster for Mummy was all mended on my desk this morning? Well, I’m guessing Bri stayed up very late to do it for you. It might be nice to let her sleep for a while, don’t you think?”

  Vicky’s eyes widened. “Bri loves me. That’s why she stayed up, isn’t it, Daddy? I love Bri too, to the moon and back.”

  The truth hit Harry like the proverbial ton of bricks. Bri did love Vicky. Her actions proved it. And round about the same time, a squiggly, squirmy, totally unexpected feeling, one he never thought he’d feel again, raised its head and looked him square in the eye. Bri loved Vicky; Vicky loved Bri and Harry was halfway in love with Bri too.

  It scared the hell out of him. But he’d never felt more alive.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “I’m really sorry to land on your doorstep unannounced.” Bri raised her sunglasses and met Dan’s inquisitive gaze. The sun was barely up and it was clear from his spiky bed hair and towelling robe Dan had been asleep when she arrived. And that had been after sitting in a nearby park for two hours until daylight snuffed out the streetlights.

  “Not a problem. Come on in, I’ll put the coffee on.” Bless her cousin for his discretion, and for understanding her need for a caffeine hit before explanations were given.

  She set her bags beside the hall table. Dan gave them a curious glance, but said nothing. Two hours of reflection had left Bri no closer to working out why Harry had lied to her. She slumped into a chair at the round breakfast table, feeling curiously drained. “Lying by omission is as bad as an outright lie, isn’t it?”

  Dan glanced at her then pressed the pulse button on the grinder and waited for it to finish before he answered. “Well, it depends. People don’t reveal some things to protect others, or because it’s not their secret to tell. Then there’s the ‘does this dress make my hips look big?’ The answer to that is always no, by the way.”

  “Dan, I’m serious.” But his bit of nonsense eased the ache in her heart a little.

  “So am I. Does this line of questioning have anything to do with the other night?”

  “As in when I slept with Harry? No—yes—I don’t know.”

  “Ah. Amy was delighted when she realised, but I gather it’s complicated everything?”

  “I thought I could trust Harry, but I found out something I wasn’t meant to know. He’s written a report on the viability of a new mine on the Carters’ property.”

  “A mine?” Dan gave her a sharp look. Knowing how hard she worked with Gramps to prevent new sites opening, he would understood the level of betrayal without her spelling it out.

  “Yeah. And he knows about Gramps’ health and my project, how we’re trying to raise awareness and stop further mining. No wonder he kept quiet about his report around me.”

  “Did you consider it’s not his secret to share? If the report is for Alex and Lizzy, then client confidentiality would stop him speaking about it.” Dan slid a mug across the wooden table and sat opposite, sipping his coffee. “How did you find out about it?”

  “That’s a whole other story. It was late, I was even more bumble-footed than usual and I kicked over a pile of Harry’s folders while I was repairing Vicky’s birthday poster for her mother. I sent the lot flying. I couldn’t leave Harry to deal with the mess on top of his awful mother-in-law, but that’s how I saw it. No prying, Dan, no furtive espionage. I had no idea Harry did that sort of work.”

  “Nothing more than an accident then, but it looks like you’ve walked out and left him in the lurch because of his work. You knew he was a geologist when you agreed to look after Vicky, didn’t you?” Dan’s frown reminded her of her father’s, which made sense since her uncle was Dan’s father. It was the sort of frown that Bri, with her spontaneous and random actions, had seen often in her teens. It said, ‘I’ll point you in the right direction so you can fix what you’ve done, and while I disagree with you, I still love you.’

  Tears pricked her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall, not even when lack of sleep made her thinking fuzzy. She’d run out of the house without thinking things through. But Vicky wouldn’t understand. She focused on Dan’s last comment. “Kind of. Harry mentioned field work, but it was a while before I found out what sort of work that was. It’s probably naïve of me, but I just didn’t think he’d be helping set up a new mine.” The more she thought about Dan’s explanation, the more sense it made. Anger had blinded her to the probable reason for Harry’s non-communication on the topic, but still—

  No. There was no ‘but’. She picked up her mug and inhaled the aromatic steam. “Damn, I hate to admit you’re right. But how can I go back knowing what Harry is involved in?”

  “Bri, it isn’t like Harry is responsible for Gramps’ health, nor what’s happening on the coast. He’s a good man, and he pays you very well to do a job. You’ve walked out on him without giving him a chance to explain, although it’s not really your business what work he does for others.”

  Dan’s summation was clear and covered every point, and she knew he’d nailed the reasons. Eventually she nodded, more to herself than her cousin. “I have to go back.”

  “You do, and the sooner the better. How do you think Vicky will feel if she finds out you deserted her?”

  Harry’s anger she could face, if she had to. But Vicky’s sorrow didn’t bear thinking of. “I’ll get a taxi back now.”

  “Still got your key? You didn’t leave it on the hall table as you left, did you?”

  She shook her head. “Didn’t occur to me to do that. I was just so upset and angry at the time, I didn’t really think of anything but getting away from Harry.” She drained her coffee and pushed her chair back from the table. “I’ll be on my way. Thanks for the telling off, Dan. I needed it. You’ll make an excellent father.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and gave a wry grin. “I hope so. Hey, give me two minutes to dress and I’ll run you over there.”

  “It’s fine. I’ve disturbed you enough for one day.”

  Harry turned into his driveway and sat until the song on the radio finished before he got out of the car. He felt lighter in spirit, despite the date. Before Bri had come to live with them, he would have dreade
d today; Linda’s mother insisting on plumbing the depths of grief over her daughter’s grave, refusing to move forward; Vicky, upset and reminded all over again of her motherless state.

  The birthday poster had changed everything. Bri’s optimistic nature, her natural inclination to celebrate life rather than dwell on death as Mavis did; these were qualities he enjoyed about her. They were an integral part of the woman he wanted to mother his daughter, and to share his bed.

  If he were looking for a wife. Bri’s temporary nanny duties were coming to an end, but the positives of her presence, and Bri herself had made him rethink his opposition to a second marriage. The way she had worked with Vicky to celebrate Linda’s birthday was a blessing; it had made a day he dreaded into a celebration. With Bri by his side, betrayal disappeared and hope, bright and life-giving as the sun, returned.

  Two more weeks—still time to think about Bri in this new role, and time to win her over to the idea of staying in the Isa, with him, with Vicky. Together, they would convince her it was a wonderful idea.

  Whistling the tune he’d been listening to on the radio, he swung out of the car and strolled down to the letterbox. As he dropped the flap, a taxi pulled up at the kerb. Inside sat Bri, her face a pale blur behind the tinted window. The driver got out, came around and opened the boot. Bri stepped out, turned her back and reached for something from the back seat. Harry grinned and admired the view, the rounded peach of her bottom, the long line of tanned legs in crumpled white shorts. Maybe he could interest her in an early siesta—with him, in his bedroom.

  The taxi driver hefted a small suitcase onto the footpath, and Bri lifted out her camera case and tote and set them beside the other case. She paid the driver while casting anxious looks at Harry.

  His breath caught in his lungs and froze as he eyed off her baggage. The cases told a different story to the one he’d imagined—a quick trip to the shops while he took Vicky to kindy.

  The cases told a story he didn’t want to hear; one in which Bri had run without leaving word of her destination, or her reasons for leaving. The only explanation he came up with fell far short of the courage Bri had shown in other circumstances, but it was the only thing that made sense.

  “Why did you leave? Was Mavis too much for you?” It was a slim hope. He had become inured to her sniping over the years, but Bri was a stranger to Linda’s mother’s abrasive personality. Maybe Mavis had become worse than he realised. He folded his arms and waited, trying to rein in his worst thoughts until he heard what Bri had to say. She shrugged the camera case strap into position on her shoulder and wheeled the small case past him, up the garden path and into the house. He followed, trying to decide what to do about the niggling sense of betrayal.

  Inside the house, she lowered her bags and looked up at him. Dark shadows and puffy, red eyes reminded him how Bri had saved today for Vicky. The ache in his chest eased, but he tasted guilt for jumping to conclusions. He took hold of her shoulders, wanting to kiss her, but needing to know why she left. “I’m sorry. My first words should have been thank you. Vicky was beside herself last night, and this morning, she was happy. All thanks to your selflessness. You look bushed. Come on, I’ll put the kettle on.”

  “Harry, we need to talk.”

  “We do, but over coffee, and a good fairy left some delicious biscuits that you should taste.” He bustled about the kitchen, turning on the kettle, finding plates and mugs and coffee, setting out biscuits to share—anything to give himself time to think before Bri unburdened herself. Whatever had happened to tip the scales had to be important to Bri. He knew her integrity, had seen her strength in the face of adversity. No matter how tired she was she wouldn’t have left with her bags, without a goodbye. Unless it was serious.

  Finally he could delay no longer. He set a mug of coffee in front of her and offered the plate of biscuits. “Tell me, Bri, what sent you flying out into the night?”

  “You. Or to be precise, which is difficult on no sleep, what you do.” She sipped her coffee then reached for a biscuit and nibbled the edges.

  Harry frowned and his heart plummeted. How had he scared Bri? Taking her to bed had been a mutual decision. Aside from a little embarrassment when Amy and Dan had rocked up early with Vicky, he couldn’t see how that was it. And her answer didn’t begin to include Mavis. “What did I do that’s scary, Bri? I thought we were on the same page the other night.”

  “So did I.”

  His stomach sank and an all too familiar heaviness settled in his chest. He hadn’t planned to sleep with Bri, even while he’d thought about little else as they danced. It was a rare spontaneous act in his orderly, planned existence. Going into that shop in the mall had been random; that single unplanned action had killed his wife. Now it seemed another rash act might make him lose Bri. “I rushed you into going to bed with me, is that it? Or because I’m your employer?”

  Bri shook her head. “That night with you was wonderful, but was it the same for you, or were you—making love to me for another reason?”

  If he lived to be one hundred, Harry would never follow the workings of Bri’s mind. She leapfrogged to conclusions he couldn’t begin to understand. “What other reason could there be? We wanted each other and we enjoyed sex together, several times.” Now was not the time to talk of a possible future. Unless that was what Bri feared? But why run last night, why not the morning after they made love? Had his subconscious given off signals even before he began thinking of Bri as wife and mother?

  “Three times, Harry, three wonderful times, which makes the possibility you did it with another motive in mind hard to take.”

  “For the love of God, just tell me why you think I made love to you so I can tell you again how much I wanted you. Still want you. For some reason, arguing with you is making me want to carry you back to my room, undress you and lay you out on my bed so I can ravish you again.”

  The ghost of a smile touched Bri’s mouth. She wasn’t immune to him, no matter what lay beyond her jumbled up fears. The knowledge gave him hope he could work through whatever she feared.

  “I think you just want to shut me up.”

  “That too, perhaps. So?”

  “I walked out without giving you a chance to explain, but it was an accident. I wasn’t snooping.”

  Nothing came to Harry’s mind, if he didn’t count the flicker of frustration over Bri’s disjointed attempt to explain. “What happened?”

  “It took way longer to piece together Vicky’s poster than I thought. Mavis did a real hatchet job on it. By the time I finished I was really tired, it was late, and I kicked a pile of your folders over. I put them all back.”

  He’d noticed nothing amiss this morning, but then both he and Vicky had been consumed with delight at seeing her poster repaired. What was there in a pile of work folders to send Bri running?

  She wrapped both hands around the mug. “The top one, the mine proposal for the Carters’ property, spilled its contents like a drunk on New Year’s Eve. It took ages to sort the pages, but—” She drew in a deep breath and met his gaze full on. Her eyes glittered as strong emotion gripped her; it could have been anger, but at least now, he felt they had reached the crux of Bri’s problem.

  “You hadn’t mentioned anything about a mine. You know the battle Gramps and I are involved in and I thought it was because of that, but Dan said—”

  “You told Dan my private business?”

  “I was furious, and exhausted, but Dan said you might not have talked about it for lots of reasons, like—”

  “Like client confidentiality, which you’ve put me breach of.” In his wildest dreams Harry would never have guessed this was Bri’s reason for leaving. “So you left without saying goodbye to Vicky, to me. You didn’t do me the courtesy of at least mentioning it, giving me a chance to explain?” Anger, betrayal, hurt—so much negativity welled inside him, like a tsunami racing towards the lonely island of Harrison Douglas. He’d been stupid to think he could find love a second time aro
und. Stupid to think Briony Middleton was some miracle worker with magic in her soul. There was no magic, no second chance.

  “Harry, I’m sorry. I reacted badly.”

  “Don’t you think it’s a bit late for apologies? You made your choice, Bri, and whether or not you think there are—extenuating circumstances, you didn’t choose us.”

  “But I did. I came back because I couldn’t leave you and Vicky like that, because I—care about both of you.”

  Bri cared; he knew that. She cared about her grandfather, and had a strong sense of family loyalty and total commitment to his cause. But what about loyalty to him? To Vicky?

  Even a one in a million chance that what happened today might be repeated set his stomach churning. Could he take the risk that Bri wouldn’t decide on another day that she couldn’t work for a man involved with the mining industry?

  He pulled up the drawbridge to his heart, slammed the shutters and readied the cannon. Vicky had been hurt enough. “Perhaps you were right to run away, Bri. It’s a shame, but Vicky will just have to learn that people she loves can disappoint her. Even you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m terminating our arrangement as of now. You can make your own way back to Dan’s, or wherever. I don’t want you near my daughter anymore.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Congratulations, that’s an unbelievable result.” Bri lay on the bed in Dan’s spare room and clung to her phone. She wanted to be happy about Gramps’ news, but Harry’s dismissal pierced her heart. It overwhelmed every optimistic bone in her body and carved lines of sorrow in every organ. Never in her twenty-five years had she regretted an impulsive reaction so much as now. Harry had terminated her, cut her off from Vicky, from him, without letting her argue her case.

  About the same time as she was telling him why she’d left with her cases, she’d realised just how hot-headed and idealistic she’d been. Harry wasn’t the mining company. He’d never do harm to anyone and he had nothing to do with the battle Gramps was fighting. She’d been going to tell him that, tell him she was wrong and she wanted to stay and care for Vicky. Care for him. But he cut off her apology, cut off any chance of putting right a situation that had been all in her head and now she wouldn’t see Vicky or Harry again. Now, when she acknowledged how much she cared—loved them both.

 

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