Danny snorted. “Antoine believes I have a ‘disreputable character,’ and Social Services says his word is better than mine.”
“Well, well, well. He’s messing with Social Services now? Wonder who—Oh! That’d be Joe what’s-his-name. I’d heard that he—Audrey! This is great! I mean, I’m sorry this is happening to you two, but it’s fantastic news for me. And don’t you worry. We will get all this sorted out and you’ll be chasing after a couple of four-year-olds before you know it.”
Mick’s excitement was contagious—almost enough to dampen Danny’s anger, but not quite. “Can you really get him?”
“Certainly can try,” Mick said, and very clearly winked his one eye.
The next morning Danny tucked his hammer into his belt, then kissed Audrey goodbye as he set off to the work site. She said she wanted to go to the orphanage, see the boys, and perhaps meet one of the other ladies later on that morning. Both were doing their best to think positively. Mick hadn’t come out of his office that morning, and Danny took that as a positive sign.
Despite everything, this was nice, he thought, as he walked through the rain. Like a regular marriage. It was just about the first time he could claim that. The first few money-strapped months of their marriage had been wrapped in deliciously romantic nights and days in his parents’ house. The next bunch were ugly and confrontational, with neither of them being themselves. Neither of those two situations seemed like real marriages. Now they were pulling it together. And their plan to move back to the shore was bringing them closer still.
She had made him a sandwich, which he’d tucked in his overalls pocket. His leg was doing pretty good, and he no longer felt even the slightest craving to have a drink. He still got down on himself sometimes, but lately it was more because of his losses than his disabilities. He missed Johnny terribly. His little brother should have been there to cheer them on as they made these big family decisions. He’d be Uncle Johnny. Just think of that. Johnny might even have been making his own family plans by that point.
Danny arrived a few minutes early and headed toward the most recent wall. The boards were dark from the rain, and drops slipped off the peak of his cap. He took a moment to stretch as tall as he could, fingertips reaching for the endless grey sky while he let out a healthy yawn. Then he pulled the hammer from his belt, stuck a few nails between his lips, and started to work.
He hadn’t gotten very far before he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see the foreman, Guy, who was twisting one finger in his ear and looking annoyed.
“Morning, Guy,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Changes, Baker. Changes. Orders.”
“So we’re moving on? Where to?”
“Boss says I gotta cut you.”
Danny blinked. “What?”
“We gotta make some cuts. Not enough money to pay all the guys. You’re on the list to go. Sorry, but that’s the way it is. I hear they’re hiring on the Eastern Passage. Some kinda cement factory.”
“Why me?”
Guy shrugged. “I only bring the news, you know? Sorry, man.”
Danny watched Guy’s back as he walked away, steeling himself as a leaden mixture of fear and anger curdled in his stomach. This could only be Antoine’s doing. Again. Danny let his head loll back on his neck, then he glared up at the sky, letting the rain cool his face. After a moment, he dropped his chin, stuck his hammer back into his belt, and headed to the street.
This was going to go on forever. If he went for the cement job, whatever that was, Antoine would find out and block that one as well. In the past, when nothing had mattered, the solution would have been obvious. He would have given in to the pounding in his fists, the urge to drive one of them through the man’s face. And he likely would have been tossed unceremoniously into a cell until the end of time. But now things mattered. He had to find answers that came from his head, not his hands.
He would go home. Take Audrey and go. Damn the money. They’d figure something out. He’d have to make enough for the baby too. The irony of that hit him, but he didn’t laugh. Antoine was preventing Danny from providing for his own baby. In any case, they’d get by. The Bakers always did just fine. And his parents would be happy to have them home again. Even the baby.
He started toward home, barely conscious of the ache where the peg met his leg. The pain was a constant, but other things hurt much more. Like his pride. His shoe slapped on the wet ground with every step, sounding loud in his ears. He should have been working, not walking.
Somehow, it didn’t seem the slightest bit strange when his direction changed. He headed toward the streets in the south, where the buildings stood farther apart from one another, their walls more solid, their gardens neat and tended. It struck Danny again how large Antoine’s home was. How the woodwork around the front door and the four windows facing the street had been worked in meticulous detail. He liked that. Maybe one day he’d fashion wood frames like that for his own home. Danny didn’t hesitate at the door. He rapped hard, waited a couple of seconds, then knocked again. He heard the sound of approaching steps from within and stood back a bit, waiting.
“What is it?” Pierre demanded as he yanked open the door. It took only a beat before he recognized Danny, and his expression of irritation flared to one of outright hatred. “What the hell are you doing here?”
In contrast, Danny was cold as metal. “Came to pay my regards, Mr. Antoine. Let you know we’re leavin’ and you’ll never see her again. Never. Oh, also, if you ever come near her again, I’ll kill you.”
Antoine’s mouth twisted into a smile, but his eyes shone with hostility. “Oh, really? Have you asked her about that? Made sure she still wants a useless cripple as a husband? No. I think there’s a different reason you’re here. Come to beg, have you? Got no job? No money? No . . . little boys? Maybe you’ll have to live off your wife’s income, fisherman. She’s a very . . . talented woman, Audrey is.”
Danny’s fist smashed into Antoine’s cheek, knocking the smaller man to the floor, and Danny was on him, punching again and again, riding the fury as it roared through his head. He was grabbed roughly from behind and thrown into the air, landing in the middle of the street. He felt the crunch of boots on his ribs, the beating of fists on his face, hard and purposeful, like when a butcher tenderizes a cut of meat.
“Get rid of him,” he heard Antoine say, just before he blacked out.
FORTY-FOUR
They dumped him by the docks, where he blended in with other fallen men. When he awoke, he managed to force his swollen eyelids open, and he thought it might be dusk. The faintest hint of orange still shone on the grey sea of the harbour. Danny rolled to his hands and knees, spat blood from his mouth, and swiped an arm carefully across his face. It hurt to touch, and blood stained his sleeve. Groaning with effort, he stood and wrapped an arm around bruised ribs—one or two might even be broken, he thought. At least they’d left him his leg. It could have been worse. He could have been dead.
He limped slowly to the water, grunting with every movement, then cupped his hands and dipped them in the unforgiving cold of the harbour. Bracing himself, he splashed salt water over his torn face. It burned like acid.
He had nowhere to go but home now, and he’d go there a beaten man. He had lost. He had wanted so badly to prove he was the better man, the victor, but Antoine had won again.
All around him, rivers of rain trickled down the pebbled slope of the road and drained into the ocean. He looked toward the pier, now rebuilt over the spot where Johnny had died. Just another pier. Another drab building without character, welcoming in the big ships from Europe, where men were being blown apart every day.
Danny had a sudden urge to step in the water, feel the grit of sand between his toes. Trying to ignore the bruises on his ribs, he sat on the edge of the dock and slipped off his shoe. He took off his sock, rolled it inside of the shoe, then set it to
the side. Standing again, he folded up his pant legs and waded in. The water wasn’t clean and clear like it was when it flowed past the peace of Jeddore, but just knowing at one point this same current might have wandered past his home made it feel good. He had an impulse to sink into it, sit chest-deep in the ocean current and watch the boats, like he’d done as a little boy.
It was time to go home. Home to the Shore. Tomorrow. Tonight he needed Audrey.
She wasn’t home. When he stepped into the empty house, Danny thought about visiting the orphanage, but it was too late. Besides, he had a feeling the condition of his face would scare the boys pretty bad. Danny wandered into the kitchen and slumped over the sink, rinsing off the dried blood and salt. Everything hurt. What would Audrey say? Where was she?
A couple of hours later, Audrey came home. He had gone to bed and dozed off but awoke when he heard her latch the front door behind her. He visualized her moving smoothly through the entrance, the sitting room, the kitchen, followed the sound of her feet as they shuffled across the floor. He knew when she came closer and was surprised to hear her hesitate. She didn’t normally do that.
The bedroom was dark, and a sliver of light from the outer rooms peeked in when she opened the door.
“Audrey?”
“Oh, Danny. It’s late. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Where have you been?”
Again that little hesitation. Danny felt a tingle of fear at the base of his neck.
“I went . . . out,” she said. He sensed her hanging her coat in the corner of the room and remembered it was raining outside. She slipped off her shoes and started to unbutton her blouse.
“Audrey, come here, would you? You’re makin’ me nervous.”
She came to the side of the bed and stood a moment, looking down. The darkness hid all evidence of Danny’s beating, but not the angle of her face as she dropped her chin to her chest.
“I . . . I went to see Pierre,” she said.
Bile rose in Danny’s throat, and he knew. Despite everything she’d said, she loved Antoine. He and Audrey were through. Danny didn’t say a word.
“Danny,” she whispered. She tried to sit on the side of the bed, but he put a hand up, holding her back. If she touched him, he wasn’t sure what he would do. “It is not what you think,” she said. “I went to thank him, yes, but also to ask him to leave you alone. I was just so afraid he’d hurt you! And I thought—”
His voice was rock-hard. “Why, Audrey? You don’t think I can take care of myself? I’m such a cripple?”
He saw her flinch and knew Pierre had used that term—again.
“No, it’s not that. You know it’s not that. But lots of men work for him, and well, he pays them to hurt people. I didn’t want him to send them after you.”
“Oh, really,” he said dryly, running his tongue over his split lip. “Did you kiss your lover goodbye?”
She sniffed. “Of course not. Don’t even say that. I realize now that I shouldn’t have gone. I should have left it as it was. I only wanted everything to be fine with all three of us. Make it all go away so that no one gets hurt.”
“Too late.” He snorted. “No one gets hurt. That’s a good one, Audrey. Did you tell him you loved him?”
“I told him goodbye.”
“Did you tell him you loved him?” he insisted.
The tiniest of hesitations, then she took a deep breath and let it go. “No. I never loved him, Danny. Never. But you have to understand that he did a lot for me. He took care of me. He made me feel good about myself, and to be truthful, he made me feel beautiful. He was good to me.” Her voice hardened a little. “I had to say thank you, didn’t I? I had to thank him for everything he’d done for me. This is not about you, Danny. It’s about him and me. That’s all. I don’t understand why you are so hurt that I went there for that.”
“How could I not be hurt, Audrey? How could I not feel betrayed when you go, in secret, to the one man who almost destroyed us? To beg for my sake? You think I’m so useless that I need you to sneak around and defend me? Because I’m not, Audrey. I can handle myself. It’s you I can’t trust.”
The darkness seemed suddenly complete. She didn’t move. It was like she’d stopped breathing, though her slender shadow still stood beside the bed.
“Please don’t,” she whispered. “Please, Danny.”
She reached a hand out, but his eyes were closed, and he didn’t sense her there until her cool, wet fingertips grazed his cheek. He hissed at the pain and pulled away. She was instantly at his side, leaning over him.
“What’s happened, Danny? What have you done?”
“It’s nothing.”
“What is that? You’re hurt! You’re hurt badly! What—”
She spun around and left the room, then returned moments later with a lit candle, its flame dancing in a bright yellow circle before her. Danny stared at the ceiling, arms crossed. This was going to get complicated.
Her gasp was quick, her fingers light when she saw the damage. Danny kept his eyes open but lowered his gaze, watching hers.
“Who did this, Danny? Why?”
“Why do you think?” His words were like venom. They were out before he could stop them, even if he’d wanted to. “Guess you didn’t get there in time.”
She was quiet for a moment, brushing dark strands of hair back from his brow. God, he loved her. It hurt how much he loved her. Through the candlelight he could see the pain in her expression, knew she ached to find him again through the jumble of broken promises, but he did nothing to help. She was on her own.
And she knew it. Audrey set her jaw and spoke in a low voice. “That’s why I went, Danny. That’s why I had to go and ask him to stop. I wanted to make him promise to leave you alone. I thought if I could only make him see reason . . . You know I don’t think of you as a . . . as a . . . cripple. It has nothing to do with your leg. It has everything to do with all the thugs he has working for him. They could have killed you!”
“I ain’t dead.”
She pressed gently against his brow, and he hissed through his teeth. “No, thank God. You’re too stubborn to be dead.” Her fingers continued to caress his forehead, tracing soft lines that made him want to close his eyes and disappear into the sensation. “Oh, Danny. I can’t stand this. What happened to us?”
He ignored the question. “How could you?” he demanded. “How could you go to him after everything we talked about? It wasn’t up to you, Audrey. It’s up to me. I’m the man. I’m the one who is supposed to protect you, take care of you, make you so happy you don’t need anyone else. He can’t go away feeling he’s won. I’m the one who has to come out on top. It’s the only way I can feel all right about this. But now . . .” He closed his eyes and breathed, waiting for emotion to die down before he spoke again. “Now you’ve taken that from me, Audrey. You took our trust, and you took my pride by doing that today. You took our future by doing that.”
“No, Danny,” she breathed. “No. You can’t say that. I went because I needed a future with you. I needed you alive.”
“I might be alive, but I’ve got nothing left.”
“Not true,” she said. Her voice wobbled into the beginning of a sob. “You have me. You’ll always have me.”
“Ha!”
“Please, Danny. Please!”
The rain picked up again, hard enough that it sounded as if someone had thrown a bucket of nails at the window. The house shuddered.
“How do I know?” he finally asked.
“Know what?”
“How do I know I can trust you? How do I know you don’t love him? How do I know it’s not just obligation that’s brought you back here?”
“Oh, Danny! How can you say that?”
“How can I not?”
Tears ran down her cheeks, golden in the candlelight. “Because I love yo
u, and you know that. I have never loved anyone but you.”
She sounded tired and defeated. Danny wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He had to admit it was good to hear the honest pain in her voice and know he wasn’t the only one suffering. But everything in his heart ached to comfort her. To pull her against him and breathe her in.
“It was a mistake,” she whispered. “The biggest mistake I’ve ever made. But it’s in the past, Danny. It’s nothing compared to you and me. I love you, Danny. I’ve always loved you. I can’t imagine living without you. Please forgive me. Please?”
A gust slammed the rain against the trembling windowpane. It made him cold. It made him want to hold her tight and believe. God, he wanted to believe. In her, in them, in himself.
“Blow out that candle and come to bed, Audrey. We’ll see how we are in the morning.”
She lay naked beside him almost instantly, leaving her clothes in an unaccustomed heap by the side of the bed in her urgency. Her fingers touched his shoulder, her thigh pressed against his, and he rolled toward her, closing his eyes against the tears. Her head lay on his battered chest, her curls cold and wet against his skin. She gripped him like a lifeline, and it hurt. His bruises, his heart. It all hurt. She shook in his arms, sobbing, and he held her, but he couldn’t quite get past that hole in his heart where trust used to be.
“I don’t know what to do, Audrey. It’s all wrong.”
“Give it time,” she whispered. “Please. I promise. It will be fine again. Please.”
His fingers brushed the soft skin of her breast, tracing the slope he knew so well. She pressed closer against him, and he held her to her promise.
“Love me,” she begged.
“I never stopped loving you, Audrey.”
His lips found hers, and he inhaled her breath, the sweet scent that always made his heart skip. They kissed and touched and breathed together until he could wait no longer, then he melted into her warmth and fell in love all over again. He leaned down and nuzzled into the curve of her neck afterward, relishing the taste of her drying sweat. Her pulse was steady and promising under his lips. He sighed and lowered his ear onto the pillow beside her.
Tides of Honour Page 33