by Sandy Curtis
A clean folded handkerchief appeared in Braden’s hand and he smiled at her as he wiped the flour from her face.
“Sorry to have to leave you to finish the pie. I like it with sultanas if you have any.”
For a smile like that she would have given him the whole vineyard! She glanced past his broad shoulder at Veronica. If looks could kill Jenna knew she would be featured in tomorrow’s obituary notices. Veronica’s back was rigid as she stalked up the hall to Braden’s study.
Jenna was cleaning up the dishes when she heard Veronica’s voice telling Braden she would let herself out. Jenna waited for the front door to open. Instead, Veronica walked into the kitchen. Her pale blue eyes gleamed with malice.
“I’m sure you’re not naive enough to believe that rubbish about the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, Jenna,” she hissed. “You’re way out of your league. Take my advice and run back to wherever you came from and play with someone on your own level.”
Before Jenna could reply to this astonishing attack Veronica spun sharply on her heel and marched from the room.
Jenna was so stunned by what Veronica had said that she failed to see Caitlin’s slight figure slip into the kitchen. So she found herself startled when a little voice stated emphatically, “I hate ’Ronica.”
“Caitlin! You can’t say that.”
“But I do! Anyway, Mummy said she’s a cold fish.” Caitlin’s bottom lip stuck out defiantly.
Jenna smothered a laugh. She wouldn’t say that if she’d seen her now, she thought.
“Ronica wanted Uncle Braden to send you away and she’d look after me.”
“How do you know, Possum?”
“They were talking in Uncle Braden’s study.”
“Caitlin!” Jenna admonished. “You were spying.”
“No.” Caitlin drew back defensively. “I was just listening. The door was open.”
Jenna knew she should not listen to any more, that she should reprimand the girl for eavesdropping, but her curiosity overwhelmed her.
“And what did Uncle Braden say to that?”
“He said lots of nice stuff about you and how you are good for me.” Suddenly her defiant stance altered. “You won’t go away, will you, Jinx? You’ll stay and look after me? You’ll make me walk better?”
The frightened look in her eyes made Jenna realize the fragility of Caitlin’s self-image. She dropped a kiss on her upturned face.
“You're already walking so much better, Possum. And remember me telling you about my job in Sydney? Other children need my help too. But I'm so proud of you. You've worked so hard. You made your mother very happy.”
A smile lit up Caitlin's face.
"Mummy was happy, wasn't she."
She hummed softly as she skipped out of the kitchen. Jenna slipped dishes into the sink and gazed distractedly out the window. Braden had said 'lots of nice stuff' about her, had he? Was that only for Veronica's benefit to explain why he hadn't replaced her with another housekeeper? Or was it a reflection of his feelings for her?
At breakfast the next morning Caitlin leaned across her cereal bowl and placed her small hand on Braden's arm.
“Can we take Jinx to the beach today, Uncle Braden?”
Braden’s cup clattered back into the saucer. “You want to go to the beach? In the surf?”
Caitlin frowned. “You said we could. When I got better. You said we could take Jinx. You want to go, don’t you, Jinx?”
Jenna smiled, as much at the surprised but delighted look on Braden’s face as at Caitlin’s worried query. “Of course I want to go. I haven’t had a swim in Australian surf for two years.”
“I bet it’s better than all the others in the world,” Caitlin boasted.
"Well, we'll just have to go and make sure of that, won't we, Jenna?" Braden smiled at her with twinkling eyes that made Jenna's pulse beat a rapid dance in her heart.
Luckily there was only a small surf running. Jenna had bought Caitlin a two piece swimsuit with “little boy” legs that covered the tops of her thighs and kept the worst scarring hidden. Her limp was less pronounced now, but Jenna was relieved that no-one on the beach stared as they walked across the white sand.
After some minutes playing with Caitlin in the shallow water, Braden turned to Jenna.
“Why don’t you do some surfing. I’ll stay with Caitlin.”
She wondered if he had seen her envious glances at the body surfers as they rode the foaming crests of the waves. After a northern hemisphere winter it was glorious to feel the salt water on her sun-kissed body. She smiled her thanks, pleased with his thoughtfulness, reassured Caitlin that she wouldn’t be too long, then pushed her way through the breaking surf, delighting in the way it bubbled and foamed around her.
She swam lazily through the rolling waves, then turned to catch one as it peaked above her and surfed it in almost to the beach. She laughed as she stood and tossed her head, the sea-drenched curls flying out in a streaming arc. It was exhilarating! She’d almost forgotten just how exhilarating it was, the power of the wave propelling her forward in a rolling foaming frenzy until it lost its power in the shallow water.
“What are you looking at, Uncle Braden?”
Braden brought his gaze back to Caitlin. “Oh,” he said airily, “I’m just keeping an eye on Jenna.” He jumped Caitlin over a wave.
“Don’t worry, Uncle Braden, Jenna can’t drown. She’s an angel.”
Braden chuckled, “She sure is, honey.”
The trouble was, some of the other surfers must have shared the same opinion. Braden watched as first one, than another man attempted to engage her in conversation. One even tried the old “Oops, sorry, the wave bumped me into you” trick, crashing his body into Jenna’s and grabbing her to hold himself up. Braden’s hands clenched into fists, then slowly released as he watched Jenna quickly extricate herself from the surfer’s grasp and swim away.
Jealousy was a new emotion for him, and he’d certainly had an overload of it in the past few weeks. He tried to concentrate on Caitlin, but his eyes kept straying seawards, searching for a pale slim body. One particularly churning wave crashed into her, and she surfaced spluttering, groping for her bikini strap that had slipped off one shoulder. His breathing stopped at the sight of one exposed breast, the colour of rich creamy milk, before she pulled the strap back into place.
His resulting arousal had him cursing himself for not wearing board shorts over his brief swimmers. He crouched down in the water, hoping the coolness would do what his mind seemed incapable of. He forced his thoughts away from the memory, tried to quell his frustration, but his mood was far from pleasant when Jenna returned and offered to look after Caitlin so he could surf.
He watched her slight frown of hurt as he muttered, “About time,” and threw himself into the waves. He swam out, too far out for safety, and he guessed she would be worried, but he ploughed on, only the ache in his shoulder muscles giving him some relief from the ache lower down. Finally he turned and swam back.
He saw the flare of annoyance in her green eyes and knew that he would never again be able to look at that same colour in the ocean without thinking of her. He wondered if a day was ever going to pass again when he wouldn’t spend a fair portion of it thinking about her. And the thought frightened him. He had always been in control, always been the one to make the decisions, and now it seemed his wayward mind and body were leading him on their own merry dance.
He wanted her. Physically, emotionally, mentally. And it scared him. Badly.
They didn’t speak to each other on the way home, directing any conversation to Caitlin. She was the buffer between them, her needs subjugating their emotions, allowing them the excuse not to talk to each other.
That evening as Jenna phoned her parents from the privacy of his study, Braden eased his long frame into a chair next to Caitlin as she sat engrossed in a colouring-in book.
It had only occurred to him on the drive home that he had interpreted flippantly
what Caitlin had said in earnest.
“Caitlin, honey, why did you say Jenna is an angel?” he asked gently.
“Because God sent her to me,” Caitlin replied patiently as though he was the child.
“What do you mean?”
She put her crayon down carefully and looked at him as though she couldn’t understand why he was so dense.
“I asked God to bring back my Mummy and Daddy and I dreamed he was sending me an angel. And when I woked up Jinx was there.”
Braden thought back. Yes, in her flowing, long-sleeved white blouse and in the half-dark Jenna could have appeared to Caitlin to be an angel. It certainly explained why she was so accepting of Jenna, so willing to trust her. He stroked the child’s soft cheek.
“Well, sweetheart, Jenna isn’t an angel, but maybe God did send her to you.” To us he mentally corrected as he thought of the desperation he had felt before Jenna’s arrival. Between Alicia’s slow progress and Caitlin’s passive withdrawal into herself he hadn’t been able to see any solution to what had appeared to be insurmountable problems.
And in just a few short weeks that had changed completely. Thanks to Jenna. Thanks to one green-eyed mermaid whose flaming hair belied the sweetness and generosity of her nature. If Caitlin thought of her as an angel, then maybe Caitlin knew something he didn’t, because she certainly appeared to be able to work miracles.
But if the way she was screwing up his mind and his emotions was any indication, she was a devil rather than an angel. She certainly hadn’t brought him peace. Quite the contrary!
He suddenly realised that in less than two weeks Mrs Jenkins would return. Jenna would leave. The thought almost panicked him, almost made him run to her and take her in his arms and tell her how much he needed her. Sweat beaded his forehead as he fought against the urge. No! He didn't need her!
All right, he cared about Jenna - but he cared about other people too - like Mrs Jenkins - that didn't mean he was in love with her. Did it?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jenna couldn’t believe her ears. The deep voice on the other end of the intercom was explaining that he was Caitlin’s grandfather and asking would she mind if he came up to see his grand-daughter. Braden was working in Brisbane, but surely he wouldn’t mind if Caitlin saw her grandfather. After all, hadn’t Alicia said her father was always there for her?
“Please come right up, Mr Fleetwood,” she answered.
When she opened the door she saw he had Braden’s height and breadth of shoulder, but Alicia’s brown hair, though streaked with grey, and pale blue eyes. His dark suit was well-cut and expensive, but hung on him a little oddly, as though he had lost weight recently. He took her outstretched hand in both of his.
“I’m so pleased to meet you, Jenna my dear. Alicia has been in seventh heaven since your visit with Caitlin. She showed me the video. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for what you’ve done for them both.”
The warmth in his voice brought a flush to Jenna’s cheeks.
“Believe me, Mr Fleetwood, it’s been my pleasure. Caitlin is a very lovable child.”
“Yes, she is that,” he agreed. “And please call me Alastair.”
The voice was Braden’s, only quieter, lacking Braden’s strength and firmness. She led him in to the loungeroom and offered him a seat, explaining that Caitlin was having a nap. She was just walking to the kitchen to put the kettle on when she heard a sleepy voice.
“Grandpa?”
A little figure hurtled across the floor and landed on Alastair Fleetwood in a tangle of arms and legs.
“Grandpa! Grandpa! You’ve come! Why didn’t you come before?”
Jenna watched the pain in Alastair Fleetwood’s eyes at Caitlin’s question. From the way he had kissed the child’s cheek and the hug he had returned with fervour, it was obvious that staying away had not been his choice.
“Sometimes things aren’t always easy, Caitlin,” he said. “But now that I’m here you’ll have to tell me all you’ve been doing.”
By the time Jenna returned with a tea tray Caitlin had only filled her grandfather in on her activities up to Jenna taking her to see The Lion King. She slowed down a little as she ate one of the biscuits Jenna had brought in, proudly boasting to her grandfather how she and Jenna had baked them. Then she continued her narrative.
Finally she asked “Do you want to see what I can do in the pool, Grandpa?” and looked beseechingly at Jenna.
“Get your swimmers on,” Jenna smiled, and Caitlin raced off to her bedroom. Alastair turned to Jenna, a wistful look on his face.
“I’d love to see her more often. I’m sixty-eight this year, Jenna, and realizing more every day just how much my children and Caitlin mean to me. Alicia and I have a good bond, but I’ve lost Braden, and I couldn’t bear to lose Caitlin. But it’s so awkward with her living here with Braden.”
“Surely he wouldn’t stop you seeing Caitlin?”
“No, Braden isn’t a cruel man, but it’s just so strained between us that it wouldn’t be pleasant, and I don’t want Caitlin to feel torn. She loves Braden. I’ve seen them together at Alicia’s and I sometimes think that Caitlin is the only human being apart from Alicia that Braden loves. It gives me hope that one day he’ll let himself love someone else.”
“Alastair, why don’t you tell Braden that you love him?”
A great sadness seemed to settle on his shoulders. He rubbed a finger slowly around the rim of his cup as he gazed at its contents.
“Because I don’t think he’d believe me. I really haven’t done anything to show that love to him. When his mother left I was devastated. I knew what she was like, knew she’d only married me for my money, but I was infatuated with her. And those eyes of Braden’s, so piercing, so like hers. I used to read the derision in them.”
He gave a low, self-deprecating laugh. “Or thought I did. It was only years later that I realised Braden didn’t blame me for his mother leaving, but rather for the abandonment he felt from me. But by then it was too late - the chasm between us was too big.”
Jenna frowned. One of them had to make a move towards reconciliation. It was so futile for them to be cut off from each other like this. But Alastair obviously thought it was too late, and Braden was so stubborn she doubted anyone could convince him his father had always loved him.
As she and Caitlin farewelled Alastair an hour later, Jenna decided she would try to speak to Braden about his father.
Jenna was cleaning the pool when Braden returned home. She heard Caitlin’s excited voice telling him about his father’s visit, but he didn't come out to the pool and ask her about it. At dinner time she watched his face as Caitlin elaborated on the exercises she had shown her grandfather in the pool. No glimpse of betraying emotion gave her any indication to his thoughts, and straight after dinner he went into his study.
Later that evening he came out into the dining room as she was writing a letter to her ex-flatmate, Samantha, in London. He asked if she would like a cup of coffee and she watched as his long, strong fingers deftly prepared the percolator. She liked watching him, liked the surety, the confidence in his movements. She was fascinated by the texture of his skin, the way his dark wavy hair curled around his ears, the full, perfect outline of his lips, only too aware of the devastation their power created.
“Do I pass muster, or are there some changes you’d like to make?” He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling.
She felt a surge of colour in her neck as she realised she’d been staring. “I was just thinking,” she blurted to hide her confusion, “that maybe it would be a good thing if you and your father could get together and sort out your differences.”
He went very still, his hands resting lightly on the bench, but she could feel the tension rising in him. “And what gave you that idea?” His voice was deceptively quiet.
Jenna debated her reply. She could shrug her shoulders and say it was just an idea and go back to her letter writing, or she could take her courage in her hands and
confront him with what his father had revealed. She knew that the latter course would be a dance with the devil, she could see it in the steel grey of his eyes, the tight line of his jaw, the muscle spasm in his neck. But she was no coward, so she mentally girded up her loins and sallied forth to do battle.
She stood up and moved to the bench.
“Your father loves you, Braden. He always has. He regrets that he was never able to show you that love. He thought you blamed him for your mother leaving.”
“Really? He told you that?” The sarcasm rolled off his tongue. “I suppose he told you that he loved me so much that he couldn’t wait to get me out of his sight by shoving me into boarding school, too.”
“Lots of kids get sent to boarding school. Were you the only weekday boarder there?”
His lips compressed and she knew she had scored a point. “Has it ever occurred to you, Braden, that you may not have been an easy child to deal with? Perhaps your father simply didn’t know how to cope with you.”
“And who gave you that idea?”
She could feel his anger now, knew that she should only respond to it with calmness. “Alicia. She hates to see the division between you and your father.”
“Then why doesn’t he tell me he loves me? Because he doesn’t, that’s why. All he’s ever cared about is work!”
She heard the plaintive cry of a young boy behind the scorn in his voice. No matter how tough the man, how well he had suppressed his need to be loved, the pain of his perceived rejection still hurt.
“He’s afraid you won’t believe him, Braden. He’s nearly sixty-eight. Don’t leave it too late to get to know him because your pride and your stubbornness wouldn’t let you.”
“So now I’m proud and I’m stubborn!” He stared down at her and she quivered under the ferocity of his gaze, but she didn’t waver.