by Nell Dixon
He closed his hand over hers, stilling the movement of her fingers. He gazed at her for what seemed like a lifetime, revealing all the shadows and torments of his past before his lips touched hers.
She closed her eyelids as his lips brushed her mouth with the tender sweetness of a vow. In abandoning herself to his kiss she hadn't realized her cheeks were wet with tears until he smoothed them away with the pad of his thumbs.
She opened her eyes again and rose jerkily to her feet. "You couldn't have done anything more for her, Nate. To get well, she had to want to do that for herself. You can't carry on punishing yourself for something you couldn't prevent."
He didn't answer for what seemed like a long time, before giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Good night, Jenni."
He had dismissed her. Her heart still troubled, she left him alone with his thoughts and trudged upstairs to her single room.
* * * *
The next morning Nate's housekeeper had bustled in and taken off her coat in the kitchen before he got downstairs.
"Morning Nate, you look as if you've had a rough night. Bacon and eggs do you?" Rose opened the fridge to inspect the contents.
"There's an extra person for breakfast this morning, Rose." Nate had forgotten about Rose arriving early. He had been confident he and Jenni would have left for work before she arrived. Then he would have been able to avoid the speculation Jenni's stay would excite. He could have talked things over with her before they left for work.
"Oh? Will they want bacon and eggs as well?" Rose looked thrilled. She knew Nate hadn't had anyone stay at the house for a long time.
"I'm not sure. She'll be down in a minute I expect." He busied himself with the coffeepot. Rose's eyebrows rose a good inch at his remark and her cheery face acquired a flushed, interested look.
"Will the young lady be staying tonight as well? I'll need to buy more groceries."
Nate shot her a glance. He knew Rose's attempts of old to fish for more information. "I'm not sure. I'm planning to go to the cottage for a few days, so I'd like you to order some groceries in for that."
"For just you? Or will you be having guests?" Her cheeks glowed pinker than ever and dimpled with mischief.
Jenni slipped into the room. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear—oh!"
"Rose, this is Jenni, my secretary. Jenni, this is Rose, my housekeeper. Jenni has a problem with her flat so she stayed here overnight." He watched as the two women appraised each other.
Rose must have approved, because she gave Jenni a cheerful smile and said, "Sit yourself down, I'll cook you some bacon and eggs."
If the atmosphere between Nate and Jenni appeared a little constrained, Rose didn't appear to notice. She served them both with breakfast and asked Nate what he wanted to take to the cottage.
Nate only half-heard Rose's questions, his attention was given over to Jenni, whose cheeks had gone as white as the milk in the jug on the table.
Chapter Nine
Panic gripped Jenni's heart. Why had Rose asked Nate about his holiday cottage? He hadn't mentioned anything to her last night. If he went away now, and it wasn't safe for her to go home yet, then what was she going to do? She hadn't realized till now how much she had counted on his support.
"I won't leave you in the lurch, Jenni," he murmured while Rose occupied herself with the frying pan on the other side of the kitchen.
"But what if I can't go home?" Jenni blurted her fear out, unable to stop the panic rising inside her.
"Then you'll have to come with me."
She looked at him, expecting him to be joking, but his face remained serious. "I couldn't. What about work?"
"It's only for a few days, and anyway, things are winding down, ready for the dance on Saturday. The contract with Sam won't start till the New Year. I think the company can manage without us for a little while."
"Maybe the detective will say everything is fine and I'll be able to go home." She tried to sound positive, but Nate just raised an eyebrow at her.
She continued in a hopeful voice. "It could be that we've made too much of this."
"And the moon is made of green cheese and I'm related to Mickey Mouse," Nate replied.
They stopped at the supermarket on the way, and Nate bought bottles of champagne to greet the staff when they arrived for work, in celebration of the new contract.
The staff soon assembled. A buzz of excitement filled the air in the boardroom as Nate made the announcement and popped the corks on the bottles.
In the midst of the hubbub and chatter, Nate drew Jenni to one side. "I rang Mr. Field, the detective. He's coming in to see us at lunchtime."
Jenni bit her lip. Nate smiled at her and squeezed her cold hand. "At least we'll know what's going on, and if Tracey's all right."
"I suppose so." Jenni's worries about her birth mother had been increasing since breakfast.
Mr. Field arrived right on time at twelve o'clock. A dry little man with a rather sad expression, he wasn't at all how Jenni had imagined a private detective to look. He sat down, looked a little sorrowfully in Jenni's direction, and began his report.
It quickly became clear that Tracey's only crime had been her appalling judgment in men. Her past relationships sounded like one long list of disasters, culminating in Pete, her current partner. The police knew the man sharing her life and her home well. The records reported him to be a drug addict with a psychopathic personality, which took the form of exerting complete control over anyone he was involved with. He had no record of ever harming Tracey, but had threatened or driven off her friends and neighbours, and had convictions for assaulting other people.
Jenni listened in numbed disbelief as Mr. Field recited a list of convictions stretching back over twenty years in his dry little voice.
"Do you think my mother is in any danger?" Jenni asked as the detective rose to leave. Her anxiety must have shown on her face, for his dour expression softened. He shook his head.
"Not at the moment. However, I think you would be wise to heed Mr. Mayer's advice and lie low for a while. Your mother's boyfriend is highly irrational. He believes anyone your mother may be emotionally attached to is a threat to his relationship with her. He may use violence to protect his interests."
A sudden tremor ran through her body. Nate slipped his arm around her waist. His touch comforted and reassured her. Mr. Field replaced his hat, wished them a happy Christmas without any hint of irony and left.
"Why did I try to find her? Why? My father warned me. Oh Nate, what am I going to do?"
* * * *
Nate had asked himself the same question.
"I think you should do as Mr. Field suggested. Lie low. Come away with me for a few days. You need the holiday as much as I do." He thought fast. He couldn't leave Jenni on her own. She had nowhere else to go. She had already confessed she had no money to pay for a hotel, and he knew her streak of stubborn pride would make her refuse any suggestion of a loan.
"It's very generous of you to offer, Nate, but I'm sure there must be—"
He interrupted her before she could finish her sentence. "Jenni, be realistic. In Devon you'll be far enough away to feel safe. If you stay anywhere in the locality, you could be traced."
She looked at him, her expression anxious. He could see her trying to think of another solution. For some reason her hesitancy about accepting his invitation irritated him.
"You're coming, Jenni, and that's final. We'll finish off here. I'll drive you home so you can pack."
Her eyes flashed. "There must be another solution."
"I'm not debating this any more, Jenni."
Jenni looked at him again. He read the mixture of hurt and fear on her expressive face and almost reached for her. To hold her close, smooth her beautiful silky hair and whisper reassurance to her.
Almost.
* * * *
Jenni fumed to herself all the way to her flat. She knew deep down she had no other option than to go with Nate to his holiday home. If one night in t
he same house as him had been torturous enough, this would stretch her beyond belief.
To be alone with Nate in a small cottage beside the sea should have been paradise, except she knew he didn't really want her company. He had insisted on bringing her with him because, being the kind of man he was, he'd felt he had no other option.
Jenni didn't want to be an honourable obligation, not to the man she loved.
* * * *
Rose packed enough food for an army. By the time the Range Rover had been loaded with the food, bags, dog equipment and Rufus, the sun had started to sink in the late afternoon sky.
Nate selected an easy listening station on the car radio as they joined the motorway. Jenni gazed out of the window at the darkening countryside with interest. She hadn't been to the seaside since her last year at college, when there had been a day trip to Blackpool. Her spirits rose. She loved the sea, and her watercolour pad and paints had been tucked into her travel bag alongside her clothes.
"We'll stop off halfway. Rufus will need the exercise."
After a few hours they stopped at one of the many motorway services. While Nate took Rufus for a short walk, Jenni wandered around the shop. The range of things they sold amazed her and by the time she rejoined Nate at the car, she had a carrier bag full of purchases.
He eyed her full hands with astonishment and, she thought, some displeasure.
"What on earth have you been buying?"
"Just a few things to make us more comfortable and something to read."
She pulled out some boiled sweets. "Want one?" He accepted her peace offering.
They set off once more and before she knew it, they turned off the main roads. The car bumped along a small track. Darkness surrounded them, and all she could see outside was the yellow tunnel in front of them made by the car headlights.
"Where are we?"
Rufus stood up in the back, panting in excitement.
"The cottage is just at the end of this lane." As he spoke, they pulled up behind a small stone building, the rough-hewn stone showing yellowy grey in the headlights.
"Wait here. I'll go and switch the electricity on." He jumped out of the car and crunched away around the corner into the dark. Rufus made a mournful little moan as his master vanished.
A few minutes later, the cottage lights came on. Nate reappeared to open the back of the car. She could hear the sound of the waves and guessed the sea must be quite near.
Nate hefted the overnight bags from the car. "Come on. I'll show you round."
He led the way along a narrow path skirting the back and side of the cottage. The sound of the sea got louder as they rounded the front of the house. Jenni could hear waves crashing onto shingle.
The cottage had a simple layout. When they entered the front door, they stood in a small hall with the stairs leading straight up in front of them. The kitchen/diner lay on one side of the hall and the lounge on the other. Jenni followed Nate up the stairs. Off the tiny landing she discovered two small bedrooms and a bathroom.
Nate dropped her bag on the end of the bed in the bigger of the two rooms.
"This is yours," he remarked gruffly. "If you'll unpack all the food, I'll make up the beds and get a fire going in the sitting room."
Jenni looked about her as Nate left to get the cooler bags into the kitchen and to start kindling the fire. Her room seemed very plain with white-washed walls and a simple pine bed. A small pine wardrobe and table stood against the wall near the window.
She unpacked her things into the wardrobe then walked downstairs to the kitchen. As she stored the groceries away in the cupboards and the fridge, her spirits started to rise. Rufus dashed in and out of the room, his long tail wagging with joy.
Jenni hummed to herself as she turned on the oven and popped in the homemade lasagna Rose had packed. Next, she turned her attention to the contents of the carrier bags of purchases she had made at the service station.
* * * *
Nate paused in his unpacking. He could hear Jenni singing as she moved about in the kitchen below. Her light clear voice floated melodiously up the stairs as she sang Christmas carols.
He crossed the landing to make up Jenni's bed with the linen they had brought down with them. Jenni had begun to sing “Silent Night,” her voice ringing clear and true throughout the house. He dreaded Christmas, the season linked forever in his mind with Cerys and the accident. She had always made a big fuss, throwing parties and buying lavish gifts for all her friends.
Since her death, he had shunned as many of the celebrations as possible, only continuing with the office party and his Santa act because it had been expected of him. He frowned as he smoothed the quilt before going back down to the kitchen.
He stopped in the doorway, not quite taking in the scene before his eyes. Jenni had her back to him and still warbled away as she bent to attend to the oven. On the scrubbed pine table, set for dinner, stood a mini Christmas tree, decorated with flashing lights, tinsel and a star on the top.
Red, scented candles were lit along the welsh dresser. He could smell, along with the supper, the essence of Christmas, pine needles and cinnamon. His mind whirled.
* * * *
Jenni turned around, the tray of lasagna in her hand. The carol she had been singing died on her lips. She looked at Nate, trying to gauge his reaction.
He hated it, she could tell. He had that frozen, closed expression on his face. Without a word, he closed the door. A second later she heard his feet crunch away across the gravel, walking away from the house into the darkness.
By the time he returned some fifteen minutes later, she had replaced his supper in the oven to keep warm and gone to sit in the lounge by the fire. Jenni took another sip of the glass of red wine she had poured to fortify herself.
"I'm sorry, Jenni."
She saw the Adam's apple in his throat move as he swallowed. "I..."
"Over-reacted?" she supplied.
He had the grace to look sheepish. "I guess that's the word."
Her heart raced and tension hung like an invisible thread between them. He looked so tired, she thought, utterly exhausted, as if the battle with his inner demons had pushed even him beyond his strength.
"I'll get your supper. Sit down."
For once he obeyed her. He sank down onto the low, floral-covered armchair. She prepared his tray and, topping up her own glass at the same time, poured him a glass of wine too. He accepted the tray without comment and ate in silence. Only the crackle of logs on the hearth and the distant roar of the waves disturbed the peace.
Jenni forced herself to sip slowly at her drink. Inside, her stomach twisted and turned. It took all the courage she possessed to stay in the room with him, gazing into the flames and tasting the mellow roundness of the wine in her glass. Nate finished eating and placed the tray down on the small coffee table that stood at the side of his chair.
"I guess I owe you an explanation."
Jenni shook her head. "No, Nate. You don't owe me anything. If you want to tell me, then that's different."
His eyes, which had been half-closed and hooded in the firelight, snapped open. He took a long pull at the glass of wine in his hand.
"I've never shared this place with anyone before."
She became conscious of her body stilling, only her pulse raced and her mind worked overtime.
"It's been my refuge, an escape from things. That's why it hit me so hard hearing you singing and seeing the Christmas tree." He paused and took another sip of wine. "Since Cerys died, I've dreaded Christmas. If I'm honest, it's too painful. I have the staff party because it's what I've always done. I don't celebrate. I don't shop for gifts…" His voice tailed off.
She understood the enormous effort it took to tell her this, to attempt to explain something that she sensed even he didn't fully understand.
"I know." Suddenly she did know. Jenni had been the one who got the gifts, fetched vouchers for his family, organized cards. "I just saw that little tree and..." Now
she took her turn to share, embarrassed by what she was about to confide. "I haven't anyone to share Christmas with, no one to tug the other end of a cracker or to see or care if I decorate the house or not. I just wanted to share a little bit of Christmas with you."
She saw the mixture of emotions in his eyes. Compassion, guilt, and worst of all, pity. She finished her drink then stood her empty glass down with a clunk.
"If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go to bed, Nate. I'll see you in the morning." She bolted up the stairs before he had a chance to reply. Before her facade could crumble.
* * * *
She wasn't sure what had woken her. It had taken her a long time to fall asleep. She had heard Nate go to bed a few hours earlier.
Then she heard Nate's voice; urgent, distressed. She pulled on her dressing gown. She knew all about bad dreams, had suffered many of her own in the past. Jenni guessed dreams of the accident tormented him as he slept.
Jenni opened his bedroom door. She saw him clearly in the moonlight. His chest bare, the duvet slipped half onto the floor as he tossed and turned in the grip of the nightmare.
Instinctively, she crossed to his side to sit on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under her weight. Her pulse thundered as loudly as the crashing surf outside the window. She slipped her arms around him and cradled his head on her lap.
"Nate, wake up. It's a bad dream, wake up."
At first she thought he couldn't hear her, that he had gone so deep she couldn't reach him. Then, to her relief, his eyes flickered open.
"Jenni?" He looked up at her as if he thought she might vanish, as insubstantial as his dream.
"I'm here," she whispered, stroking the wild curls from his brow.
His skin felt damp with sweat under her fingers. His hand closed over hers, stilling the movement. His other arm slid around her.