New Zealand Brides Box Set

by Diana Fraser

  Her eyes narrowed as she watched him. “She isn’t, is she?”

  He grimaced. “Yes, she is.”

  Her eyes narrowed further and she gritted her teeth. “Then why didn’t she tell me? She should have told me. Or you. You could have told me.”

  “Etta.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “It’s complicated.”

  “No, it’s not. She’s my mom and I didn’t know. That’s simple.”

  He groaned inwardly. Of all his extended family, Etta was by far the brightest, and the feistiest. He knew she wouldn’t accept anything less than the whole unvarnished truth. She could smell a rat a mile away. “I know it seems simple to you, but it wasn’t. Rachel”—the name was met with a scowl—“had you when she was very young, too young to cope and everyone thought it for the best for you to be raised by your father’s family.”

  “Good. I don’t ever want to see that woman again.”

  The thought of Rachel hearing these words made him wince. “You don’t mean that.”

  “I do,” Etta muttered, staring at the floor again.

  “Etta! She was only five years older than you are now, when she became pregnant. Think of your dreams, think of what you’d have to sacrifice for a child.”

  “I wouldn’t be stupid enough to get pregnant.” She jerked her head to the boys she hung out with who were clustered in the field waiting for her to emerge. “There’s no way I’d do anything like that anyhow. It’s disgusting.”

  Zane swallowed the grin. “Your feelings on that will change.”

  “No, they won’t,” she muttered.

  “Anyhow, you shouldn’t be hard on her. She was only a child herself.”

  “So what? And now she thinks she can come back and claim me.”

  “Has she claimed you?”

  “No.”

  “Then I think you’re wrong, don’t you?”

  She looked up at him then, with eyes which held no defenses, in which he could see the raw hurt, in eyes that were exactly like Rachel’s. He swallowed down a lump.

  “Then why has she come back?”

  “Because she wanted to find you—she didn’t know your identity—and to see you, if possible, to make sure you’re okay. Etta, she wanted to make contact with you, but was scared of disrupting your life. She went through the proper channels to try to make contact with you.”

  Etta scrunched up her nose. “And?”

  “And… she was refused.”

  “Who refused her? Why?”

  “Me. I did.”

  Etta stepped back as if he’d punched her. She opened the door and paused, her fingers gripping the door frame. Then she continued through and ran outside.

  “Etta!” Zane shouted as he watched her run across the grass, away from her mates and toward the sea. The boys were about to follow but he waved them away. “Let her go,” he called out and the boys obeyed, uncertainly, and began kicking a ball around. He watched her walk down the street until she got to Beach Road and then she disappeared. He knew where she was going. The same place he used to go when he wanted peace, down to the sea.

  He went back inside the classroom and pulled his phone from his pocket. He walked to the window and gazed out, as he raked his hands through his hair. Like it or not, he had a phone call to make.

  * * *

  Rachel put down the phone with shaking hands. Despite what Zane had told her, there was a part of her which felt immense relief. Her daughter knew her identity. Wasn’t that what she’d wanted all along? Of course, but not under such conditions. She was angry with Zane for that. The news must have been leaked somewhere along the line from his board of trustees. If he’d simply granted her permission, it wouldn’t have happened like this.

  Like a robot, Rachel filled the kettle. As it came to the boil, she looked out across the familiar scene, imagining what Etta must be feeling, imagining what she must be thinking. From what Zane had said, Etta was in shock and angry. That was only too natural, but Rachel couldn’t help imagining scenarios where they’d moved past that, and where they could meet and, eventually, have a proper relationship. It was bad news for Zane, upsetting news for Etta, but for all that, it was news that inflated a huge bubble of hope inside Rachel.

  She glanced at the clock. Her father wouldn’t be back for a while. She’d postpone her flight to the States. She needed time to sort things out with Etta.

  She’d only just finished her emails, cancelling her flights to Wellington and then on to the US when she heard running footsteps coming from the beach side of the house. Then footsteps slammed up the veranda steps and the door burst open. A tall, skinny kid stood silhouetted against the afternoon sun, hands on hips.

  “Etta!” Rachel stepped toward her.

  Etta stabbed her finger at her. “Don’t come anywhere near me!”

  Rachel froze to the spot, her stomach in knots. “Etta, I—”

  “I haven’t come here to listen to you. I’ve come here to tell you I don’t want anything to do with you. I want you to go away.”

  “Etta… I’m not going anywhere yet. Not until we have a chance to talk. Your uncle rang and told me you found out. I’m so sorry.”

  “I don’t care if you’re sorry. You didn’t want me when I was born and I don’t want you now.”

  The knot twisted tighter in Rachel’s gut. “I understand.” She wrung her hands, trying to think what she could say to this girl who she’d so wronged so many years before.

  “How can you? Your mum didn’t disown you.”

  “It wasn’t like that. It was complicated.”

  “That’s what Uncle Zane said, and it’s bullshit.” Etta began to back out the door. “Bullshit,” she repeated.

  Rachel stepped toward her, her heart aching for this girl, her child, a stranger. “Etta, I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen like this. I never meant for you to be hurt. I’m so sorry.”

  Etta shook her head and ran off. Rachel followed her but caught hold of the veranda post and clung to it. “Etta,” she half-whispered, as she watched the girl run back the way she’d come, across the short lawn, down to the bay and disappear along the beach toward town. She vowed then and there that she’d do whatever it took to make amends to her daughter—even if it mean never having a relationship with her. Even if it meant losing her forever.

  11

  Rachel’s decision to film the new series at Belendroit had been welcomed by the US studios. But whether it was welcomed by Zane or Etta, Rachel had no idea. The months had passed with only limited contact from Zane. But Rachel had no choice but to stay. She had Etta to consider now—whether Etta wanted her to, or not.

  In the end it had been Zane who persuaded her to stay—to not simply delay her flight, but to cancel it indefinitely. And it hadn’t been any emotional plea either on behalf of himself or Etta. It had been the plain fact that Rachel had left Etta once and, even if Etta had declared the opposite, Rachel had to stay for Etta’s sake now. Whether Etta knew it or not, she needed to have Rachel be there for her. Leaving New Zealand wouldn’t solve any problems; staying might, just might, help solve them. And so Rachel had stayed.

  She’d watched the weeks turn into months as the autumn colors deepened and disappeared under the cooler skies of early winter. She received regular updates from Zane as to how Etta’s counseling sessions were going. Slowly, it seemed. But she received nothing more from him—no casual visits, no requests for dates, no accidentally-on-purpose meetings. He’d cooled things between them, presumably because he was no longer interested in Rachel. She had to face the fact that she’d ultimately proved to be exactly the sort of person Zane had been trying to avoid—a person with a very public profile who’d proved untrustworthy and a threat to his family and whanau.

  So when there was a knock at the door one damp evening, as the night was starting to fall, she was surprised to see his recognizable silhouette behind the glass panes of the door, illuminated by the outside light. She opened the door. “Zane!”


  If he smiled, she couldn’t see. His expression was shadowed by the bright light behind him.

  “Rachel.”

  “I… didn’t expect to see you.”

  He glanced down. “No.” There was a long pause.

  “Rachel!” Her father called from down the hall. “Who is it?”

  She half-turned. “It’s… Zane.”

  “Zane? Well, let him inside, then.”

  “Oh, right. Of course.” She opened the door wide, allowing a few moths to flutter into the warmly lit hall. “Sorry… I…” For once in her life she had no idea what to say, as thought after thought, hope after hope, was swiftly sabotaged by common sense.

  “Thanks.” He stepped into the hall and waited for her to lead them into the old-fashioned drawing room which the family still used as their main living area. Rachel walked inside where Jim sat next to a roaring fire. He rose to greet Zane.

  “Good to see you, my boy. What have you been up to? Hardly seen you around!”

  “I’ve been busy, Jim.” Zane glanced at Rachel.

  “Would you like a drink of something? Tea, coffee?” asked Rachel.

  “We can do better than that!” Jim said to Zane. “Have a glass of wine. I’ve some very good Pinot Noir you should taste. And stay for dinner. It’s one of the recipes which Rachel has been testing. All about comfort food apparently. She’s been relentlessly feeding anybody and everybody over the past months. You’ll be doing us both a favor by eating it. I’m totally comforted now and have no further need for more. Although I’m not so sure the same could be said of everyone else around here.” He shot Rachel a meaningful glance.

  “It’s for the new show,” she said defensively.

  “Your new show?” Zane asked Rachel. “You’re still going ahead with it, then?”

  Rachel felt confused. “Yes, of course. It’s my job.”

  “Oh. Only I thought…” He shook his head and spoke directly to Jim. “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Nonsense. You must stay.”

  Zane hesitated, his eyes fixed questioningly on Rachel.

  Jim looked from one to the other. “Mustn’t he, Rachel?”

  She cleared her throat. “Of course.”

  Zane gave a brief half-smile. “In that case, yes, thank you, I’ll stay.”

  “Good,” said Jim. “Come and talk to me by the fire. After all, it’s thanks to you that we have a huge pile of chopped wood. Update me on everything.”

  “I’ll get us some drinks,” said Rachel, slipping out the door, needing a respite from the chaotic emotions which seeing Zane had stirred. She couldn’t think why Zane had come after all these months. Was it to warn her off altogether? Was it to tell her to leave, that things had worsened? That Etta hated her more than ever? Rachel had no idea. But she needed reinforcements. She slipped into her bedroom and rang Gabe’s number.

  After a brief one-sided chat with Gabe—which consisted of her telling him to come, immediately—she brought a bottle of wine and four glasses into the drawing room.

  “Four glasses?” Jim asked Rachel.

  “Oh, yes. Gabe’s coming to dinner.”

  “Oh, good. So, Zane, what have you been up to since we last saw you? Family’s well, I hope?”

  “Yes, thank you. Gran is the same. The rest of the family are thriving.” He glanced at Rachel and then back to Jim.

  “And Etta?” asked Jim.

  Typical, thought Rachel. If there was an elephant in the room, Jim would draw attention to it.

  “She’s fine, thanks.” Rachel watched him carefully. She noticed the slight frown and pressing of his lips together. She doubted anyone else would. “Well, no, she’s not. She’s had a few issues. But the counselor reports an improvement.”

  “Oh!” The breath was snatched from her body. It wasn’t until both Zane and Jim looked sharply at her that Rachel realized she’d verbalized the pain she’d felt at Zane’s words. “How?” She swallowed dryly. “How is she improving? How is she doing?”

  Zane glanced back at Jim and looked uncomfortable and didn’t answer immediately. She suddenly couldn’t bear it—she couldn’t bear to think what Zane’s silence meant, and couldn’t bear to think of the pain she’d caused her child.

  She jumped up. “I have to go and prepare dinner.” She walked quickly over to the door, aware that both Zane and her father were silently watching her. Let them. She couldn’t stay in the room where all the silence told her was how she was responsible for devastating the life of her child.

  “Rachel!” said Zane. She held open the door, firmly declaring her intention, but turned to him at the last moment. What was he going to do? Recount all her faults, all the things she’d done wrong, before her father? It seemed unlikely. Talk about Etta? Even more unlikely.

  “Yes?”

  “Can I help you?” He rose. “In the kitchen, I mean.”

  “What? No. I’m fine.” She took another step through the door.

  “I came to tell you something. And I want to tell you now.” He glanced between Jim and Rachel.

  “Don’t mind me,” said Jim. “I’ll disappear if you want me to.”

  “Don’t go, Dad,” said Rachel. She didn’t want to know the dismal truth and she somehow felt that her father’s presence might prevent it.

  Jim looked momentarily uncomfortable but Zane looked back at Rachel with a shrug. “Okay. I came to tell you that the board has approved your revised application.”

  “What?” Rachel was stunned. “What revised application? I didn’t revise it!”

  “I”—he paused and took a deep breath—“took the liberty of making certain revisions to enable it to be passed.”

  “Really? And did you intend to tell me this at some point?”

  “Yes. Now. I’ve come direct from the meeting.” Zane was watching her intently. “I thought you might be pleased.”

  “Of course I am. But I thought I might have some input into the process.”

  “I’m sure,” said Jim, “that Zane knows the process somewhat better than you, Rachel.”

  “Maybe. But Rachel’s right. I should have consulted her. But I didn’t want to raise your hopes. I couldn’t anticipate the decision of the other board members.”

  “And what exactly was the final decision?”

  “That, subject to the usual considerations and constraints under the Guardianship Act, you will be able to make contact with Etta.”

  “And these constraints?” There had to be a catch somewhere.

  “They’re concerned with the family, with Etta. And the family won’t oppose any approach from you. It’s simply Etta, and her counsellor’s report, that needs to be considered.”

  “Oh!” Rachel gasped, as she stepped through the door, pulling it closed behind her. She continued on to the kitchen, consumed by a strange mix of grief and relief. It wasn’t until minutes later, when she felt her father’s hand on her shoulder that the sobs emerged. They arose from some deep place she’d carefully concealed, from everyone, including herself. But Zane’s words had blown the seal, and there was nothing but raw emotion now and, with her father’s arm around her, there was no stopping it.

  * * *

  Zane wondered whether he should follow Rachel and Jim through into the kitchen, but thought better of it. If Rachel had wanted his company, she’d have stayed. He hadn’t anticipated this. He’d imagined she’d be ecstatic—overjoyed to have the last hurdles to her relationship with Etta overthrown. But this… He took a sip of wine and grimaced as the door opened. But it wasn’t Rachel, it was Gabe, unaware of the scene at present continuing between Rachel and her father.

  Gabe narrowed his eyes on Zane. “So what brings you to Belendroit? I thought you’d be at that meeting—the big hui in Christchurch. It’s all over the news.”

  “I was. And I will be. But I wanted to see Rachel.”

  Gabe glanced toward the sound of Rachel’s voice, and Jim’s remonstrances, and winced. “She’s not in a good place right now. You mig
ht want to leave it.”

  “Because she’s busy?” Zane asked hopefully.

  Gabe shook his head. “Uh-uh. You, mate. You. You killed her dreams.”

  It was Zane’s turn to wince. He shook his head. “I didn’t know it was Rachel who was looking for Etta, no idea they were her dreams.”

  “And would that have made a difference?” Gabe was uncharacteristically cool but Zane couldn’t hold it against him. He’d asked himself the same question repeatedly over the past few months.

  “No, it wouldn’t.”

  “So if you haven’t changed your mind, why are you here? Rachel’s devastated and to be frank, you’re the last person she wants to see.”

  “I have changed my mind. And I’ve changed the board’s mind. The decision has been overturned, that’s what I’ve just told her.”

  Gabe frowned. “I don’t understand. You said it wouldn’t have made any difference if you’d known it was her.”

  “It wouldn’t. But because of what I feel for her, I saw, for the first time, things from her point of view. And once I’d caught a glimpse of her heartache and her need and desire to set things right, I couldn’t go back. She changed my mind for me.”

  “Jesus! That must have been like making a lawnmower undertake a slalom. Would have churned up the ground—not a pretty sight.”

  “It sure felt like it. But, seriously, Gabe, she opened my eyes and made me realize that I couldn’t carry on, doing what I was doing, trying to protect my whanau from the outside world, assuming it would be bad for it.” He threw his hands in the air. “I mean, how in God’s world could Rachel be bad for Etta?”

  “But you didn’t know it was Rachel.”

  “No. And I didn’t try to find out who it was. I was clinging to principles, but I’ve learned something… Rachel’s taught me something. Principles are nothing if they’re not combined with compassion and judgement. I had the latter, but not the former. She’s changed, me, Gabe. And I want her to know that. That’s something I haven’t told her yet.”

  Gabe nodded slowly and smiled. “Then go tell her. I can’t guarantee what her reaction will be, but looks like you need to tell her.”