by Sandy Curtis
His hands curled into fists and he shoved them deeply into his trouser pockets. The flesh over his cheekbones was strained and tight, tension etched in the strong lines of his face.
“Caitlin has been staying with me since she was discharged from the hospital. The doctors suggested that perhaps if I took her out of Brisbane, away from all the reminders of what had happened, it might help.”
“Has it?”
“No. If anything, she’s even more wary of strangers. Which is why I’m so amazed by the way she’s taken to you.”
Jenna was puzzled too. She knew she had a rapport with children, but there had been something in Caitlin’s manner last night that intimated she had been waiting for her to come. That at last the person with whom she could share her burden had arrived.
Jenna smiled up at Braden. “I’ll take good care of her.” She was just about to reassure him that her career as an occupational therapist had well prepared her to care for children like Caitlin when he glanced impatiently at his watch.
“I’ll leave you my office and my mobile phone numbers. If you have any problems call me. I don’t know what time I’ll be back tonight so don’t keep dinner for me.” He cocked a dark eyebrow at her. “I suppose you can cook?”
“Oh, I’m sure I can throw something together that’s fairly edible, Mr Fleetwood.” she replied airily, annoyed by the scepticism in his voice.
“Call me Braden.”
“I don’t think that’s very business-like, Mr Fleetwood,” she replied, anxious to keep their relationship on a more professional level, and wary of the feelings he seemed to create in her.
Irritation flashed in the steely eyes. “I think for Caitlin’s sake the less formality between us the better. I’m sure she will accept you a lot better if she thinks you’re here because you want to be with her rather than because you’re being paid to be.”
The cold tone surprised Jenna. She hadn’t considered that he thought she had decided to stay because of the money he offered.
“I didn’t agree to stay because of the money, Braden,” she ground his name back at him, “I have enough money saved to live quite comfortably until I start my new job in six weeks time. I’m staying because Caitlin needs me.”
His gaze locked with hers. Incredulity, disbelief, challenge, warred in his hard stare. Little shimmers of electricity danced in the air between them, sending tiny sparks of awareness tingling in Jenna’s brain. He doesn’t believe me. Why? Surely nothing she had said or done had given him cause to think otherwise. Puzzled by this, she couldn’t resist asking him, “Surely you’ve wanted to help someone who needed you?”
“Why Caitlin?” Suspicion darkened his tone.
Jenna rose to her feet, her cheeks flushing. “I happen to love children, Mr Fleetwood, and sometimes I come across one who touches my heart the moment I lay eyes on her. Haven’t you ever felt that way about someone?”
A long silence hovered as she became aware that the mood between them had subtly altered. Although his eyes still held hers she became conscious that his gaze was taking in her flushed cheeks, her breasts rising and falling beneath the clinging fabric of her tee-shirt.
He was very still, his body tensed as though assessing a situation that was new to him. Suddenly she realised he was no longer thinking about Caitlin. Had the attraction, the compassion she felt for this man been conveyed to him by some word, some gesture she had made? As though to distance herself from the thought she stepped back towards the penthouse door.
“You don’t want to be late for your meeting,” she said, deliberately looking at her watch.
Without a word he strode past her into the penthouse. He took a notebook and wrote down phone numbers and put the sheet of paper on the table. Jenna watched him say goodbye to Caitlin. His gentle, tender manner was in such sharp contrast to what he had displayed to Jenna that she wondered again what she had done to be shown such cynicism and suspicion. Was it only her, or was he like that with all women? And why was she letting him get under her skin?
Over the years she had learned to control her hot temper, and very rarely in a work situation had she allowed anyone to annoy her to the degree that Braden did. She shook her head. This was not going to be an easy job.
Mrs Jenkins had left everything in such good order that it took Jenna very little time to do the small amount of housework necessary. Vacuuming the floors gave her an opportunity to explore the penthouse more closely than the perfunctory glance she had had with Braden. Further up the hallway from the room she had slept in and then Caitlin’s bedroom was the main bathroom, spacious and light in tones of cream, pale apricot and gold. Then a laundry, Braden’s bedroom with ensuite, and a study.
She noted the absence of any personal touches - no photos, mementoes. Perhaps his own home showed more of the personality of the man. After all, this was only a company place of residence. The cream and apricot tonings continued with added shades of soft green. Jenna looked through the sliding glass door leading out onto the courtyard that surrounded the penthouse. Bricked up gardens overflowing with palms and ferns created a private oasis just outside the bedroom and study.
The study was obviously used as a second office by Braden. She compared the austerity of his bedroom to the clutter before her. Computer, printer, fax, photocopier, phone, answering machine, filing cabinets. Yes, there was no need for him to feel cut off from the billion dollar empire he presided over.
Jenna’s thoughts concentrated on the man behind the companies as she pushed the vacuum cleaner around. If what she had seen was any indication, Braden lived for his work. Did his money give him happiness? He certainly didn’t seem to have found trust, not, at least, as far as she was concerned. But then he had left Caitlin in her care, hadn’t he? And she certainly meant a lot to him.
Caitlin came looking for her just as Jenna put the vacuum cleaner back in the laundry cupboard. Her thin little face with its sombre eyes seemed to be pleading with Jenna, looking to her to find the answer to the sadness in her soul.
Jenna bent down to the child. “I have a problem, Possum.” she said.
Delicate eyebrows lifted over grey eyes so like Braden’s that Jenna could see his face etched clearly in her mind. She answered the child’s unspoken query.
“I want to make some biscuits for when your Uncle Braden comes home. The problem is I need some help. I haven’t made animal biscuits in a long time. Do you think you could show me if I’m doing it wrong?”
Jenna only intended making one batch of biscuits, but Caitlin indicated she wanted to do more and Jenna gave in, delighted by the first spark of pleasure she had seen in the girl’s eyes as she pressed nuts and sultanas into the dough to form the faces.
Although the child had not smiled, Jenna could see a lessening in the tense look of the little face. After lunch Caitlin started to fall asleep on the lounge and Jenna carried her onto her bed.
It was a warm day, and felt doubly so to Jenna, her body still acclimatized to England’s winter. In the courtyard large potted palms and ferns scattered green against the fawn patio furniture. A green and fawn striped shade cover extended over the furniture and the swimming pool. The pool beckoned invitingly.
Jenna changed into her bikini and dived in. The cool water was bliss and she revelled in the change from heated indoor pools that had been her norm for the past six months. Her long graceful limbs slipped into the well-remembered dance rhythms of the water ballet she had learned in her youth. Pointed toes, sleek body gliding through the water in a series of turns and pirouettes, losing herself to her inner music.
Her thoughts strayed to the memory of Braden's powerful body slicing through the water, and she tried in vain to stop the desire that shivered through her. Her imagination taunted her with images of Braden's hard-muscled body sliding over hers, dark-haired thighs against her smooth limbs, and she thrust them away, grateful for the water's coolness on her suddenly overheated body.
Gradually she became aware of a small shadow fall
ing on her. She glanced up to see Caitlin standing at the edge of the pool, eyes wide with wonder. Jenna executed a few more turns, then swam leisurely over to the child.
“Would you like to learn water ballet?” she asked casually, as though it was of no consequence to her if Caitlin refused. The child’s small white teeth bit into her bottom lip as she looked at Jenna, then the water. Jenna could read the longing there; the longing, and also the fear. Slowly, the longing won, and the small head nodded gently.
“Better put your swimmers on then,” Jenna said and slipped lithely under the water in a series of twists and turns before Caitlin had time to protest. When she surfaced and saw the little figure limping back inside she held her breath.
She had taken a gamble when she’d seen the yearning in the child’s eyes. If she could get Caitlin in the water she would have a chance to start her on some exercises which would help build up the muscles in her thin little legs and strengthen the damaged one.
As she moved with dolphin-like agility through the water Jenna kept her eyes averted from the penthouse. She didn’t want Caitlin to sense how anxious she was to have her join her. So when Caitlin lowered herself awkwardly onto the built-in steps sweeping down one corner of the pool Jenna kept swimming about for another minute before she approached the child. She sat on the step next to her, careful to avoid looking at the ugly scars on Caitlin’s thigh.
“When I was five years old,” she said “I used to get asthma. Do you know what asthma is?”
Caitlin shook her head.
“Well, sometimes there are funny smells in the air that affect certain people, and make it hard for them to breathe. Their lungs aren’t strong enough to suck the air in.” It wasn’t quite an accurate description but one she felt Caitlin could understand. The grey eyes looked at her with grave interest.
“To help me get stronger lungs so I wouldn’t get asthma so much my mum used to take me to the pool to learn how to swim.” Jenna continued. “I had to do a lot of swimming before my lungs could get strong enough so I could hold my breath and learn to do water ballet.”
She slid off the step and floated out in front of Caitlin, looking up into the trusting face. “You are going to have to do lots of exercises to get your legs strong enough before you can do water ballet, Possum. Will you trust me to teach you how?”
There was a slight hesitation, then Caitlin’s arms reached out to Jenna.
For the next half hour Jenna eased Caitlin into simple exercises such as leg swings to gain her confidence in the water. They also had the benefit of gently loosening the hip and lower back joints. In the days to come she planned for Caitlin to do them more quickly in order to strengthen her buttock and thigh muscles. But for now she took it slowly.
Occasionally Jenna would interrupt the routine to inject a little fun into the procedures. Caitlin was too small to go into the deeper end of the pool so Jenna had her hold on to her around her neck and swam the child around on her back, blowing bubbles and making “fishy” noises. Although there was no audible reaction from Caitlin, Jenna could feel her tense grip relax as she let herself glide along easily on Jenna’s back.
After dinner that evening, Jenna settled on the lounge with Caitlin. In spite of Caitlin’s lack of speech they seemed to have no trouble communicating. Rather than let the child lose herself in front of the television set, Jenna read her story books while Caitlin’s small finger traced the illustrations.
At eight o’clock the phone rang. Braden's husky tones had Jenna's heartbeat skittering out of kilter and she barely registered his words.
"I won't be able to get back tonight, Jenna. The meeting has to be continued tomorrow morning." From the vexation in his tone Jenna guessed today had not gone well. "How's Caitlin?"
"She's fine. We baked biscuits today and she's made some special ones for you."
There was a small silence. When Braden spoke again Jenna thought she detected a wistful note in his voice. "She used to help Alicia make gingerbread men."
A sudden urge to reassure him, to soothe the worry from his voice, swept Jenna, but she didn’t tell him about the exercises in the pool. Caitlin was listening and she didn’t want her to realise their importance.
She wished Braden good luck with the meeting, and wondered, as she hung up the phone, if he was alone. Then she chided herself for her curiosity. It was none of her business, really. But the thought still lingered.
A suspicion was forming in Jenna’s mind. Her years of working with children had taught her they didn’t always react to trauma in the same way adults did. Often in the case of a divorce children would blame themselves for the break-up of their parents’ marriage, mistakenly believing their behaviour had caused the rift.
When it came to injury-related trauma children could feel surprisingly guilty for causing their parents anguish. Jenna was beginning to suspect Caitlin’s refusal to do the exercises in hospital might stem from guilt feelings that she was to blame for being injured and causing her mother to reject her. So by not getting better she was subconsciously punishing herself.
During discussions with the psychiatrist in the clinic where she'd worked in Sydney Jenna had learned logic didn’t always come into children’s assessment of situations.
The relief she expected to feel at not having to see Braden again so soon didn’t come. Instead she was irritated to find herself disappointed. And her innate honesty made her admit that another reason she hadn’t told him about Caitlin’s exercises was she wanted to show him she wasn’t the inept, bumbling young woman he so obviously thought she was.
Why did she feel she had to prove herself to him? His opinion didn’t matter! The important thing was getting Caitlin as strong as possible. Jenna knew a lot could be achieved if only Caitlin would co-operate.
She had spoken for only a few minutes on the phone to Jeff yesterday, but something he had said had lingered in the back of Jenna’s mind. Reassuring herself that Caitlin had gone into her bedroom, she dialled her parent’s home number. Jeff answered on the second ring.
After spending a few minutes catching him up on her change of plans, Jenna challenged her brother. “Jeff, why did you wait all day at Mascot Airport if you thought I was still sticking to my original flight plans?”
“Well, um, I wasn’t sure what they were.”
“Mum would have told you.” Suspicion tinged Jenna’s tone. “You did get my text message, and my email and fax, didn’t you?”
“What email? What fax?”
“The ones I mentioned on the phone yesterday. The ones letting you know I would be staying with you for a week rather than a few hours.”
An exasperated sigh echoed down the phone line. “It’s damn hard to lie to you, Sis. Yes, I did get them, and I’d left a message at the flight desk in Brisbane for you to take a bus up to the penthouse in Maroochydore.”
“You did what?” Jenna could feel her temper rising.
“Before you blow your stack, Sis, will you please listen? Braden needs you. He’s nearly been going out of his mind with worry over Caitlin, and I knew if anyone could help the kid, you could. I’d actually planned to fly up to Brisbane and meet you and take you up there myself, but I couldn’t get away, so I hoped if you just turned up and saw Caitlin you’d offer to help. I was going to phone Braden just before you arrived and tell him about you and that there’d been a mix-up and -”
“Hold it right there!” Jenna fought to stay calm. “I phoned you.”
“Sorry.” Jeff sounded sheepish. “I had this ... friend ... over and she -”
“I don’t want to know,” Jenna interrupted. “Let me get this straight. You plotted to have me arrive here, take one look at Caitlin and offer my services?”
“I was going to let Braden know first. I knew you wouldn’t push yourself on him.”
Jenna felt a surge of heat at the mental image those words created. “Why?” she spluttered.
“Braden’s my friend, but he’s also very stubborn. If I’d suggested him goi
ng down to pick you up from the Airport he may have thought I was trying to interfere in his private life and refused, but I knew he wouldn’t leave you at his front door with nowhere to go.” His voice brightened. “And I was right, wasn’t I? Do you think you can help Caitlin?”
Jenna drew in a deep breath. Jeff may have placed her in an awkward situation, but he’d done it with the best of intentions. “I’ll try.”
“Good for you, Sis. Oh, by the way, don’t tell Braden I planned this, will you? He might not appreciate me meddling in his private affairs, and I rather like my job.”
The temptation was too much. “I’ll think about it,” Jenna replied archly, and hung up. Let him stew on that, she thought.
The next day Jenna and Caitlin had two sessions in the pool. That night another phone call from Braden informed them he would not be returning that evening.
Late Wednesday afternoon they were starting a new exercise when Jenna looked up to see Braden standing in the courtyard, his face like thunder, hands rigid at his sides.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Caitlin, honey, pop inside and have a shower and get dressed.” Braden's tone was deceptively soft.
She looked questioningly up at Jenna. The anger was back in Braden’s steely eyes and set jaw as Jenna looked at him. She realised then it was directed at her. What had she done? Surely it couldn’t be because of what she was doing with Caitlin?
“Do what your Uncle Braden says, Possum. We don’t want you getting sunburnt, do we,” she smiled. Caitlin gave her a puzzled look. After all, Jenna had been careful to coat them both liberally in sun-screen lotion and the shade cover stopped all but the most slanting of the suns rays, but she obediently made her way out of the pool. Braden lovingly mussed her hair as she passed him, but his voice dripped with ice when he turned back to Jenna.