by Annie Seaton
‘I will.’ Emma didn’t mention what she knew, nor did she correct Wilma about the ‘young man’ comment. And there was no way she’d go out there by herself again.
Emma pushed open the side door of the pub and waved to Rod as she crossed the bar to the stairs and headed for the top floor. She stepped onto the wide graceful verandah. The old timber floor was covered in orange petals from the Poinciana tree that grew on the footpath outside. The door to Room Three was pulled shut and the curtains were drawn. A half-empty bottle of scotch and a single glass were sitting on the small table outside the door.
Frowning, she tapped on the glass door, but there was no answer.
‘Jeremy?’ She rapped her knuckles harder this time. ‘Are you in there?’
Maybe he’d gone to the house without her. She glanced down at her watch. She’d said mid-morning and it was only just after ten-thirty.
Knocking again, she stepped back and waited, watching the busy highway as the traffic passed through the small town. A muffled bang and a groan came from within and Emma hurried back to the door.
‘Jeremy? Are you in there?’
‘Go away.’
‘What’s wrong? Are you sick?’ She cast a dubious glance down at the bottle on the table. During the night she’d put his leaving down to not feeling well, prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt.
‘No, I’m fine. I’m having a sleep-in.’
Emma pursed her lips and folded her arms. ‘I came to town especially to help you move. But I’m happy to leave. I can find plenty to do on a Sunday off,’ she yelled through the door. ‘What’s it to be?’
The glass panels shook as the door was wrenched open, and Jeremy stood in the doorway scowling at her. She looked him up and down and fixed her gaze on the bare stomach in front of her. His jeans were unbuttoned and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Her temper was momentarily forgotten as she dropped her eyes to the narrow V of golden hair that disappeared below the open zipper. Her mouth dried and she snapped it shut as she glared at him.
There was safety in temper. If not she’d be too tempted to put her hands on that warm bare skin. Though looking closer, she noticed that eyes were bleary and his hair was tousled. He looked about eighteen years old. The smell of stale alcohol wafted off him.
‘You know, I’ve just about had enough of being scowled at by cranky men this morning.’ She inclined her head to the bottle and glass. ‘But I guess it’s the alcohol talking and the smooth, suave Doctor Langford that the town loves has taken a break?’
‘Well, you’re in a fine mood this morning too.’ The first glimmer of a smile tilted his mouth. ‘At least I can blame a hangover. What’s your excuse?’ He rubbed his hand through his hair in frustration. ‘I’m sorry. Is it Wilma, is she all right?’
‘Yes. But still not out of the woods.’
‘I’m sorry, Em. A tough night coming to terms with some things I needed to address.’ He looked miserable.
‘Do you still want me to help?’
‘Can you put up with me being shitty?’
‘I guess I can. Now go and take a shower. You look like you need one. I’ll go and rustle up a couple of coffees. And you think you’ve had a tough night? Wait till you hear about mine.’
‘What?’ His brow lowered in a frown and he winced.
‘I found out who’s involved in the smuggling. And who assaulted George. And I need to tell you about my car too.’
‘Who and what about it?’
‘I’ll fill you in when I get back. Now go and have a shower.’ She looked down at her phone willing it to ring. ‘I’ll be back in five minutes.’
By the time Emma returned from the bakery with three croissants and two strong coffees, Jeremy was sitting at the table on the verandah. She’d avoided the police station and kept a nervous eye out for either of the police cars as she’d walked along the main road to the bakery. Her phone stayed silent. The scotch and the glass were gone and he was showered, clean-shaven, and dressed in a pair of jeans and a clean white T-shirt. He no longer looked like a man who’d demolished half a bottle of whisky.
He reached for one of the paper bags as she held out his coffee. ‘You’re a lifesaver.’
‘So are you going to tell me what happened to you last night?’ She wagged a finger at him. ‘And don’t try to deny it. You took off from the hospital as though someone was after you, and then drank yourself silly by the look of things.’
‘I’m okay.’ He ran his hand through his damp hair but he didn’t meet her eyes.
Emma sipped her coffee as he chewed on the croissant. She put the other bags on the table beside him.
‘Don’t you want one?’
‘No, I bought three for you. I remember you always had a ravenous appetite after a night on the town.’
‘You’re a sweetheart. I’m sorry I was cranky.’ He looked up at her and reached up for her hand. ‘Thanks for the breakfast. Now what did you find out last night?’
Emma pulled her hand away and reached for the empty bag.
‘It’s both of them from the police station.’
‘What?’ Jeremy’s eyes widened.
‘It’s Craig and Sergeant Smith. They assaulted George and it was obviously them out at Wilma’s.’
‘Jesus, are you sure? How did you find out?’
Emma waved her hand. She’d had enough grief from George about last night. What Jeremy didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
‘Trust me. I’m sure. I’ve left a message for Troy. As soon as he rings he can let the National Parks guys know.’ Emma dropped her head into her hands. ‘Can you believe it? I don’t know who to trust anymore.’
‘Do we need to call someone? Let someone else know? And what about your car?’
‘The brake line was cut. It was deliberate.’
‘What! You need to tell the police. Shit, you can’t.’
‘I already have but Smith brushed it off. I should have known he was fobbing me off. Troy can handle it. He has the connections.’ Emma closed her eyes as Jeremy cupped her cheek with his hand.
‘Jesus, Em. You could have been killed. Are you okay?’
She let out a sigh. ‘I’m all right. It’s just been a hard couple of weeks.’
‘It has. How’s Wilma this morning?’
‘Much improved. She’s not being moved to Cairns yet.’
‘That’s good news. She must be responding to the drugs.’
‘She is.’
‘Look, I knew you all had it under control last night. You didn’t need me, but I’m sorry I took off in such a hurry.’
‘You want to talk about it?’
Jeremy took in a deep breath and stood. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here. You happy to drink your coffee while we head out to the house?’
‘I’d be happier if you let me drive and you drink your coffee.’
A rueful grin crossed his face. ‘Yeah. I didn’t think of that. Not a good example if I get booked for drink-driving. Where’s that other croissant?’
‘Get your stuff first.’
Jeremy brought out a couple of suitcases and Emma smothered a grin.
Always organised. Always neat and everything in its place.
She drove the Outreach LandCruiser through town and turned right onto the Gorge Road. It was only a five-minute drive out of town. It was good to be doing something normal. She sighed as she turned into the driveway of the property he was renting. The grass was long and the flowerbeds were choked with weeds.
‘How sad. Albert and Lorna always kept this garden immaculate.’
‘Guess I’ve got my work cut out for me.’
She shot him a curious glance. ‘So you are going to move in? I was starting to wonder.’
He held her eyes steadily and she pushed away the little frisson that stirred in her belly.
‘Yes. I might have a couple of things on my mind but I’m not a quitter. Besides, I’m not renting it—’
‘For long?’ Emma finished the sentence for him
but was surprised to see him shake his head.
‘If you let me finish, I was going to say, I’m not just renting it. Well, I am, until settlement. I’ve bought it. When I spoke to Lorna and Albert, I realised that they needed the money to stay in the aged care facility. And—’ he shrugged ‘—if I move on I can always rent it out.’
Surprise shot through Emma. It was the last place she would have expected him to buy. She couldn’t help herself. ‘Not what you’re used to. You’d better do some renovations before your mother—your family—come to visit. But it was a lovely thing to do.’
‘I don’t expect they’ll visit.’ His tone was terse and very un-Jeremy like.
‘Why not?’
‘You nailed it. It’s not a five-star resort.’
He opened his door, and came around and opened the driver’s side door while Emma gathered up the empty coffee cups and brushed the croissant crumbs off the seat. Their fingers brushed briefly but she ignored the tickle at her nerve endings.
Emma had always loved this house. It was an original Queenslander, situated high to let the cool breeze circulate underneath. There was no air conditioning to ease the tropical heat. The long straight staircase leading up to a closed-in front verandah was shaded by the overhanging branches of the Poinciana trees on either side.
‘Needs some work,’ she commented. The white paint was peeling and in a couple of places the guttering had detached from the tin roof. Palm trees shaded it from the north and the lawn was long and lush.
She followed him along the driveway. The house was surrounded by vacant land and Emma shivered as the grass rustled on the paddock on the other side of the fence. ‘Watch out where you’re walking. You’ll have to get someone in to mow this soon—I’m surprised the agency let it get this long. The snakes are on the move already.’ She tipped her head to the side. ‘Are you really sure you want to live out here?’
‘I know it’s a challenge, but it’s one I’m ready to take up.’ This time he grinned, and it was good to see him looking happier. ‘It will be good to have my own place and I’m looking forward to learning some building skills.’
Emma couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from her chest.
‘That’ll be fun to watch.’
‘Would you believe it’s my first time living independently? Not like you, living in that little flat in Surry Hills when you were seventeen.’ The miasma of gloom surrounding him had disappeared. ‘Twenty-eight and I finally have my own place.’
‘You know it’s only got an outside loo, don’t you?’
‘Yep. Part of the rustic appeal.’ His blue eyes bored into hers.
‘You might think I’m playing at being the country doctor. I told you I wasn’t happy with the life I was living before, and it’s time for a whole new start. It’s going to be hard—in many ways but—’ he stopped at the end of the driveway and took her hands in his ‘—I want you to think about being a part of it.’
Her whole body was trembling with restrained emotion. How easy would it be to fall into his arms and pretend they could take up where they left off?
‘I won’t make you any promises I can’t keep, Jeremy.’ She pulled her hands out of his and strode up the stairs.
Chapter 29
Sunday morning
The old James house, Dalrymple Gorge Road
The delivery man from the furniture store in Port Douglas had unloaded the flat pack boxes onto the porch and Jeremy regarded them with some suspicion. How could all that neat furniture be stored in three piles of flat rectangular boxes? The problem at hand—the furniture assembly—was filling his mind nicely and the darkness of last night was receding with each step they took around his new house. Having Emma beside him was a bonus that was improving his mood.
‘I wish Troy would ring. I can’t settle until he knows and starts things moving.’ Emma had been holding her phone since they’d left the pub. ‘I feel so useless. I don’t know where else to go. It’s hard to know who to trust.’
‘It all seems very murky. The two of them being in the police force will make it interesting.’
‘They’ll have to answer to the assault on George and the tampering with my car as well. I won’t let it go. As soon as the police—or whoever it is investigating—arrive, I can tell them what I heard.’ Emma bit her lip and picked up the first flat pack.
‘Heard?’ Unease flooded through Jeremy. ‘What did you hear?’
‘I heard them talking about storing something in the garage at the police residence.’ Emma mumbled as she ripped open the box.
‘So where did you overhear this?’
‘Don’t worry about it. As soon as Troy rings, I can relax.’ Emma glanced across at the phone on the floor beside her. She sat in the middle of the half-opened boxes and pushed a strand of loose hair back. Jeremy decided not to push the issue. He’d find out later what she was talking about.
‘It’s good to see you looking a bit happier.’ Emma shot him an affectionate glance as they opened the last box.
He glanced over at her, trying to ignore the spark that fired in him every time he got a whiff of her perfume. Her skin was glowing and she had her hair pulled high into that swishy ponytail thing that he’d always loved. She wore a pair of cut-off denim shorts and he caught a glimpse of her soft curves outlined by the black singlet top as her over-shirt fluttered open when she leaned forward.
‘A bed. One table, eight chairs, a desk, a coffee table.’ She looked at the pieces on the floor in front of them. ‘This shouldn’t take long.’
‘It would have taken me all weekend.’
Her laugh stirred his blood, but it was the words that followed that had the most effect on him.
‘We both know what you’re like with your hands, don’t we, Jem? Just as well you never wanted to be a surgeon.’
He saw the moment that she read what he was thinking. A soft pink flush stained her cheeks.
‘I thought I was pretty good with my hands once.’ He kept his voice soft and her blush deepened as she held his gaze.
‘Well, those days are long past.’ She rubbed her hands together and looked around. ‘Did you get set of Allen keys?’
‘I did.’
Well, she couldn’t stop him looking at her rounded bottom in those hip-hugging shorts as she bent over to pick up the assembly sheet from the floor.
It took longer than he’d thought to put it all together. Even Emma had frowned at some of the directions. It was good to hear her laugh as she read some of the Chinese literal translations.
‘Are these for real? Or is it supposed to be funny?’ She giggled as she turned the assembly sheet the other way.
Jeremy’s contribution consisted of holding and passing as Emma directed. Finally the table and chairs were set up in the kitchen, and the desk and coffee table were together in the living room. Emma grunted at him. He passed the bag of screws over with his spare hand as he held the final corner of the bed frame above the floor. She turned the Allen key and screwed the bed head on.
Finally she stepped back. ‘You can let go now.’ She looked around the room. A verandah ran around three sides of the house. Lacy curtains hung either side of the double cedar doors that opened onto the verandah. An old cane lounge setting was up against the wall beneath the window. ‘Here, cut the plastic off the mattress and we’ll get it on the bed.’
Together they picked up the king-size mattress and levered it so it was over the bed frame. Jeremy pushed his end and it nestled neatly in the recess at the top.
‘All done. Have you got any sheets? I’ll give you a hand to make it.’
Jeremy headed out to the car. He’d left the park yesterday for a quick shop at the local co-op and bought some essentials and left them in the back of the four-wheel drive.
He opened the packet of sheets as he walked through the door.
‘Ugh. You could have at least washed them, they’ll be as stiff as a board.’
He raised an eyebrow and a blush ran up her neck
. She moved around to the other side of the bed, then flicked the bottom sheet over the mattress. As Emma stretched to tuck the far corner in, she over-balanced and fell along the top of the mattress.
She rolled over and lay there staring up at him and the vulnerability on her face banished the last shreds of determination that Jeremy had held onto. He dropped onto the bed beside her.
And then he was kissing her, his mouth hot and hard against hers as their playful love turned to passion. Teeth clashing, tongues dancing, heat flooded him as she clung to him.
He lifted his arms from the bed and pulled off his T-shirt at the same time that her fingers found the zipper of his jeans.
‘I’ve wanted to do this ever since you ran out in your jeans and sunnies yesterday,’ she said.
He dipped his head and placed his lips against her neck, her breasts soft against his chest. ‘And I’ve been wanting to do this since that beautiful hippie woman walked into the pub a couple of weeks ago and stole my heart back in one breath. Too many clothes,’ he muttered as she lifted her hips. He slid off her shorts and panties in one swift movement. He pulled her T-shirt over her head. Emma placed her hands against his bare chest and he knew his heartbeat was hard and fast beneath her fingers.
There were no more words. She gasped as she took him inside her. He held her eyes with his and the heat built as she rocked beneath him. And then the wave broke.
It had been a long time since anything had felt so right.
*
‘Do you know how much I missed you, Em?’ He lay beside her, his face shadowed in the dying light of the afternoon. Emma’s breath caught in her throat as he stared at her. The look in Jeremy’s eyes told her exactly how much.
‘I tried to fill the gap when you left, but I was never able to.’ His voice broke and her heart clenched in her chest.
Emma reached up and smoothed his hair back from his forehead.
‘What happened last night?’ She could barely say the words. ‘I know something’s wrong. The way you were at the hospital. And you never used to drink like that.’