by Juanita Kees
‘The fire was my fault.’ Her eyes dropped to the top of Loki’s head. She hooked a finger under his collar and the dog leant closer. ‘He went out.’
‘Out where?’ Harley placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘Did he go before or after the fire started, Tameka?’
Her head came back up, her gaze landed somewhere north of his shoulder and her tone was fraught with bitterness. ‘Stop with the frigging questions! I don’t know, okay?’
With every fibre of his being and beat of his heart, Harley knew Tameka was lying through her pretty white teeth. Or at the very least, not telling the whole truth. Which made him even more certain that Louis Chalmers had something to do with the fire and it scared him shitless.
Chapter 10
She wanted to tell him. About her dad, the way her mum left, what she thought she saw the day Ryan died and the memories that had resurfaced the night of the fire. Everything. But then Harley would hate her the way she hated herself for being a pawn in her father’s cruel, emotionally and sometimes physically hurtful game.
No-one would understand why she hoped he had gone for good, just as no-one would understand why she couldn’t simply pack her bags and leave. How a part of her wished he wouldn’t come back. That he would use the gun he loaded every night on himself and not some innocent victim he’d take out in a fit of rage. And then she wouldn’t have to live with another innocent death on her conscience. Only her father’s—which would be a blessing in the disguise of a tragedy.
But with him dead, she might have even less than she had now. No home, no family, no income, the scandal that would follow … Then she’d have to leave town because, when he knew the truth, the man she loved would abandon her too.
And when the truth hit the news, the town’s residents wouldn’t simply accept her self-exclusion from the community, they’d turn on her the way Mal and Ahn had in the hardware store that day when she’d needed the seeder hose fixed, only worse.
Harley released her shoulders. ‘I’ll lend you a coat. The wind has a bite today.’
‘Thanks. I have to put my pressure suit back on first.’
‘Okay. Do you need help with that?’
‘Please.’
She’d like to say no. Getting out of it was one thing, getting back into it with its front-fastening zipper required flexibility she wouldn’t have again for a while. Not when every twist or turn stretched the skin around the burns and hurt the lesser ones or made the worst ones on her lower back bleed. But it had been a long time since Harley had seen her in her knickers and nothing else.
‘Let’s do it then. I don’t want you out there in the wind too long.’ Harley nudged her in the direction of the guest bedroom.
‘Don’t baby me, Baker.’
His hands went to his hips and he dipped his head to stare at the floor. He let out a long breath edged with something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Annoyance? Irritation? Resignation?
‘I wouldn’t dare.’
Smart-arse. She turned and walked down the hallway to her room. Inside she picked up the pressure suit from the bed where she’d left it after cuddling Loki and crying her frustration into his short, brindled fur. A moment of weakness she wouldn’t let happen again. She held up the suit and Harley took it from her.
‘Looks like a shortie wetsuit.’ He twisted it in his hands before drawing the zipper down. ‘Very sexy. You could kick off a whole new trend in underwear in this town.’
‘Very funny.’
Tameka unbuttoned her shirt. She hesitated with her fingers hooked into the waistband of her trackpants. Once the drawstring was loosened, they should drop right off. And when she shrugged off her shirt, she’d be totally exposed. Not just her back which he’d already seen, but her breasts which had matured since he’d seen them last, the contours of her body that were all muscle and no fat thanks to physical labour, and the hideous underwear donated to charity that the CWA ladies had so kindly brought in for her.
Completely naked with a man who’d once known every inch of her body intimately, but now knew nothing of what clouded her mind and stopped her from walking into his arms and feeling whole again. He was looking at her, waiting. She could feel his gaze on her face as she avoided looking into his eyes.
‘I’d ask if you need help undressing, but since you’re so determined to be Miss Independence …’ He tipped up her chin and she let her gaze drift to his. ‘Bugger it, let me help you. Like it or slap me. Here, hold your sexy lingerie.’
She clenched the pressure suit in a barrier between them as his fingers hooked under the collar of the shirt and eased it down over her shoulders. Even with the small distance between their bodies, she felt the welcoming heat of his as the material slipped away. He leant a little closer to toss the shirt onto the bed behind her, his hand still on her shoulder.
Tameka wanted to lean her head against his chest, breathe in the reality and stability that was and always had been Harley. But that would be a weakness, another crack in the wall she’d built and if she did, she’d prove her father right that she was nothing more than a useless female who could never cut it in life without a man.
‘Ready for the trackies to come off?’
His hands were warm on her hips, a light and gentle touch as she stared at his chest and tried to ignore the lure of the haven his body promised. She lifted her hands to his shoulders for balance, still clutching the suit between them, as he loosened the drawstring and pushed the pants down over her hips. The material slipped to the floor and pooled at her ankles. She stepped out of them and kicked them back out of the way as she watched Harley’s throat work and his gaze focus on something over her shoulder.
Tameka dropped her hands and toyed with the stretchy fabric of the suit. ‘Thanks.’
‘Yeah.’ He took the suit from her. ‘How does this thing work?’
‘Like a onesie.’
‘Right.’ He drawled the word as he went down on his knees and held it out. ‘Step in.’
She placed her hands on his shoulders again, all too aware that his cheek was close to the hideous orange and pink-striped cotton briefs a size too big. And the heat she was feeling by having him there had nothing to do with embarrassment over undies she would never have chosen for herself.
She stepped into the suit and he pulled it up over her legs, his hands brushing her thighs and making her breath hitch. His face so close to her abdomen, a place he used to press his lips to create ripples of excitement and desperate desire. But no more, not ever again.
He let the suit hang from her hips and her hands drop from his shoulders as he stood. ‘Okay so far?’
Way too close and not okay at all because she wanted him to wrap his arms around her and hold on tight.
Tameka closed her eyes and nodded. Now came the tricky part. The part that hurt in some places and not in others. Places she’d likely never feel sensation again. Unlike the heated sensations Harley’s nearness was causing.
‘From behind?’ His voice was soft and throaty near her ear, drawing her into his warmth.
‘Hmmm?’ With his hands skimming her body and him all around her, the words took on a whole new meaning and created a vision of another time and place when her back wasn’t burnt and her emotions weren’t as scarred.
He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. ‘Is it better if I help you into the suit from behind you or from in front of you?”.’
Heat flushed her cheeks. Get a grip, girl! She leant into him a little longer. ‘From the back.’
‘Good, because looking at your front is a little distracting and you’re in no shape for what’s going through my mind right now.’
Tameka rolled her eyes and drew on the line-up of acerbic comebacks she’d accumulated to protect herself with. If he knew her mind had headed in the same direction as his, they’d both be in trouble.
‘You’re such a guy. Anyone would swear you’ve never seen boobs before.’
‘Oh, I’ve seen boobs before, baby. Plenty o
f them whether I wanted to or not. But there’s only one pair that mean a damn thing to me. Now turn around so we can get this thing on you to cover them up.’ Hands on her hips, he turned her around. ‘Pick an arm to go in first.’
She leant forward a little, wincing as she held out her right arm first—the side with the most damage. Harley’s fingers circled her wrist and he eased her arm through the hole then did the same with the left before settling the suit over her shoulders.
She turned back to face him, fingers on the tab of the zipper. ‘I’ve got it from here.’
‘Oh hell no, this is the best part.’ He pushed her hands away and drew it up slowly, his knuckles brushing her skin, sending little shivers skittering through her blood.
‘Harley …’ She covered his hand with hers, wanting him to stop, making him keep going, needing more than she could have.
‘Shh.’ He covered her mouth with his and kissed her until her knees buckled, the zipper reached the end of its journey and her hands were trapped between them. ‘I’m glad you’re alive, Tikki.’ He whispered the words against her ear before delivering a soft tap on her backside with the flat of his hand. ‘Now get some clothes on before I change my mind.’
He stepped away, picked up her trackpants and held them out. She took them, sat down on the bed and pulled them on while he retrieved her discarded shirt. She couldn’t let him back into her heart because that heart was a stone and the lies and secrets stored in her mind would turn his own heart hard when he found out.
He might be glad she was alive, but it might have been better for everyone if she had died in that fire. Then the truth she wasn’t sure was even real would have died with her. And the only person who knew the truth was a bitter, angry, unstable man who’d tried to kill his own daughter.
Now was the time to escape. To run as far away from Wongan Creek as she could while Dad was gone. But like Mum, she’d be leaving with nothing but secrets and no future anywhere. If you run, Tameka, your mother will never find you. And so she’d stay. In case, one day, Mum came looking for her.
‘Ready to raid what’s left of the homestead?’ Harley’s voice edged into her thoughts.
‘I guess.’
‘Get a wriggle on then, princess. Loki’s getting impatient.’
Tameka smiled as Loki raced out of the room and back in again, barking with excitement. She let Harley help her into the shirt and slip her boots on, her eyes on his head as he did up the laces, her fingers itching to run through his hair and bring his lips back to hers so she could forget.
He stood, held out his hand and she took it, his warmth and strength enveloping her. She could do this. She could face the almost empty homestead with its meagre furnishings and unhappy memories. She would stay and face her father’s return, bear the consequences if he didn’t. One foot in front of the other, one step at a time. Alone. As soon as she could bring herself to let go of Harley’s hand.
Chapter 11
The afternoon sun did little to take the chill off the wind as Harley and Tameka made their way across the fields to the homestead with Loki between them. It sparkled on the surface of the dam and Harley remembered the summers when they were kids—him, Ryan and Tameka—cooling off in the water before old man Chalmers would chase them out.
Down closer to the river, the homestead stood charred at one end with a bright yellow tarp covering the open roof space where walls had crumbled and the rafters collapsed. Tameka reached for his hand and he let his fingers curl around hers as he looked for signs that her dad had returned. The battered white ute he normally parked in the open shed away from the house was still nowhere to be seen.
A memory edged its way into Harley’s thoughts of the shed that had stood there before. The one where Ryan had died in a vicious fire that had trapped him inside with no way to escape, a ten-year-old boy who’d been playing with matches on someone else’s property. An accident that had gone horribly wrong in a shed full of flammable fertilisers and fuel.
The same compounds Chalmers insisted on using today that had led to half of Harley’s crop being destroyed. Now another fire on the Chalmers property and another life that could have been taken in the worst possible way.
He tried to bury the anger that surged for Tameka’s sake. This wasn’t her fault even though she’d said it was. That she’d started the fire by knocking over the bottle of oil onto the open flame of the gas cooktop. It didn’t make sense. If she had, her front would be burnt not her back. Why had she had her back to the flames?
It wasn’t to reach for the fire extinguisher. That was on the wall right next to the cooktop. That and the fire blanket. He remembered Mai Chalmers insisting on it, had watched them being installed right after the fire that had destroyed the shed and taken Ryan’s life.
Yet according to the fire investigators, neither had been used. Barry Metcalfe had reached the conclusion that Tameka had been alone in the kitchen and hadn’t had time to reach for either of the tools that could have saved her from the burns she’d received. She hadn’t denied it.
If it wasn’t for Loki alerting him to the fire that night … God, he didn’t want to think about what the outcome could have been.
He didn’t want to ask too many questions either. Not yet. Not until Tameka opened up to him again. She could be as stubborn as a bloody mule if she didn’t want to talk. She always had been.
The eight years she’d stayed away from him proved that. Any meetings had been by chance and she’d said little or nothing when they had. Other than a wave of greeting across the fence, she’d kept her distance. And every time she did, hope for rekindling their friendship, if nothing else, had died.
Loki took off after a flock of cockatoos and Tameka edged closer to Harley as the smell of the burnt house drifted towards them in the wind. The tarp billowed and sank back down again as a gust blew through the gaps of what used to be windows but were now nothing more than shattered glass and empty frames.
‘We don’t have to go inside, Tikki.’ Harley stopped walking. ‘We can find stuff at my place for you to wear.’
He hoped she’d agree because damn it, the bloody place looked forsaken and miserable against the backdrop of the creek. He shivered, cold from everything including the wind.
‘No, I have to do this. At least the office was at the other end of the house. Hopefully, I’ll be able to find insurance papers and whatever else I’ll need in there. Have everything ready in case … for when Dad comes back.’ She tugged on his hand. ‘Come on. No point wasting time.’
She was strong, determined and hurting inside. Her defence against emotion had always been to take action. Doing was the equivalent of hiding. Harley wished she would let go like she had that day in the ute when she’d been all woman and want. When she’d let him take care of her and love her the way they’d both wanted. Until her father had slammed the door on any dreams of a future.
‘It can wait, Tikki.’
‘No, it can’t.’ She dropped his hand and turned to face him. ‘It can’t wait. I’m the farm manager. My father isn’t here to do it. I have to deal with it. It’s my responsibility in his absence.’
‘It will still be there tomorrow. Or the next day. You’ve just come out of hospital for God’s sake. You’re hurt. Look at the place. Look at what’s left of it. You were in there.’ He planted his hands on his hips and kicked the ground with the toe of his boot, sending debris from the fire flying, anger cocktailing with fear. ‘You almost died. I nearly lost you.’
‘But I didn’t die and you lost me a long time ago. I have to deal with now and tomorrow and whatever the hell else follows on from this. I’m the one with the burns, Baker. I’m the one without a home, a father who’s gone walkabout and a shitload to deal with. You have the luxury of running home to Baker’s Hill and playing happy families with normal—a mother who bakes and is a pillar of the community, a father who supports and consults. And I have … this.’ She swept a hand across the desecrated view in front of them, anger flushing he
r pale cheeks.
If it wasn’t for the crack in her voice on that last word and the tears in her eyes, he’d think his Tikki had grown harder than bloody concrete over the eight years she’d spent alone with her father, isolated from the community. At least it hadn’t killed every emotion inside her, but she’d never taken a swipe at his family before, and that spoke of something much deeper than the pain of what she’d lost.
‘What’s really going on in your head, Tikki? This isn’t like you. It’s as if I don’t know you at all these days. Who are you really?’
Her shoulders sagged as she brought her arm back to her side. ‘You’re right you don’t know me like you used to. I don’t even know who I am, but I know I’m my father’s daughter and that’s not something I can be proud of.’
Harley felt the weight of the statement as it left her lips. ‘That’s not true. Look at the crop you achieve every year with out-of-the-ark equipment. You have heaps to be proud of, but that’s not what I mean.’ He stepped closer and put a hand over her heart. ‘What I want to know is who you are in here.’
She pushed his hand away. ‘No-one. I am no-one.’
‘You’re wrong, Tikki. You’re everything to me. And I can’t let you carry on this struggle alone. Tell me what I can do to help you.’
‘I’ve done this alone for eight years. I don’t need you. Give it up, Harley. Go and find someone else to pamper. I’m sure Annie Hamilton would lap up your attention.’
She turned and walked away. With a sigh, Harley followed. No way would he let her go through that door without him. No matter how hard she tried to push him away.
The smell of burnt everything hit him face-first as he pushed open the front door for her. Heat from the fire had shattered the panels of hundred-year-old stained glass on either side. They could never be replaced. Like the friendship he’d shared with Tameka, they were broken and bent, scorched by reality.
With the electricity switched off, the old homestead was poorly lit except for the sunlight that streamed in through the windows into the smoke and soot-blackened rooms. Water from the fire hoses had done most of the damage in the front rooms. Not that there was much left to damage. What the hell had happened to all their furniture?