Whispers At Wongan Creek

by Juanita Kees

  Then his hands were busy easing her shirt from her shoulders, his thumbs caressing her skin, his lips following the trail. Heather eased the hem of his T-shirt up and let her fingers play across his body, feeling the muscles clench under her touch.

  His movements were unhurried as if he wanted to absorb the feel of her, save it to memory. They had all night. Then he peeled her jeans over her hips, taking her underwear with them in one smooth move. She stepped out of them as his hands cupped her bottom and drew her closer.

  Heat, beautiful and liquid, flowed through her as she pressed against him, feeling his desire hard and rigid at her belly. She reached between them.

  ‘It’s only fair I get you out of these.’ Heather nipped at his bottom lip.

  He smiled against her mouth. ‘No argument here, sweetheart.’

  And then he was kissing her, his tongue dancing with hers, the pressure of his mouth so sweet she wanted to cry out but couldn’t. Her hands gripped the waistband of his jeans, frozen with pleasure. Only when he lifted his head, did she draw his zipper down while he eased his T-shirt over his head.

  At last there was nothing between them but heated skin. Travis gathered her against him and she gloried in the feel of his nakedness against hers. She let her hands explore every inch of him, a favour he returned. Her knees buckled at the sensations each stroke and caress yielded.

  He lifted her in his arms, kissed her breathless then lay her down on the bed. ‘You’re beautiful, Heather.’

  His gaze raked every inch of her, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Then the mattress dipped under his weight and he was there with her, his length aligned with hers, his hands making magic on her skin until at last he covered her body with his. His hands clasped hers, raised them over her head and together they rode the age old rhythm of love.

  He filled every inch of her, thrusting, withdrawing, making her spine arch, letting go of her hands so her fingers could dig into the flesh of his backside. She’d lied when she’d told him Miss Turner’s donkey had a better rear. His fitted her hands perfectly.

  Then his mouth was on hers, giving her a taste of something that beat the best chocolate on the planet, and his hands fine-tuned her body to match his rhythm.

  ‘Come with me, baby,’ he whispered against her ear, his breath hot, the words urgent.

  ‘Yes,’ she answered, closing her eyes and giving herself up to the magic of loving Travis Bailey.

  Chapter 20

  Heather watched Travis sleep, dawn creeping through the half-closed blinds, the first rays of the morning sun streaking across his face. Her heart twisted in a knot. Every time he’d turned to her in the night, she’d fallen a little deeper, a little further in love.

  His lashes fluttered open and a satisfied smile stretched his lips. He reached out a hand to caress the curve of her hip. ‘Hey.’

  ‘I should go.’

  ‘Stay.’

  His fingers trailed up to her waist, playing in the dip before moving up her arm and over her shoulder. She shivered as delicious tingles followed in their wake. If she stayed any longer, it would be harder to leave.

  The cold pre-dawn had brought with it the reminder that she’d only committed to one night. There was no future for her and Travis and prolonging the goodbye would only make it more unbearable.

  Travis sighed. ‘I don’t like the look of that frown, baby. What’s on your mind?’

  He’d been honest with her all along. He’d trusted her with his secrets. Didn’t he deserve the truth? Heather sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Pulling on her discarded shirt, she stood and walked to the window to peer through the blind at the morning sun. It bloomed warm against the clear sky, climbing slowly to what would be another burning hot day.

  She heard the rustle of the sheets as he pushed them aside, the sound of his feet hitting the wood floor with a slap then he was next to her, naked, hard-muscled and gorgeous. Her heart broke a little more.

  ‘Heather, honey, I think after last night you can trust me with what’s going on in that busy head of yours.’ His arms came around her and he drew her to him, his forehead against hers. ‘Spill it.’

  She couldn’t look him in the eye, see the pain when it came, so she closed her eyes. ‘I have to go. If I stay, I’ll only end up hurting you. And Casey. I can’t do that, Travis.’

  ‘Hurt us how?’ He pressed her head to his chest and hugged her tightly.

  ‘I can’t put you through that pain.’ Against her ear, his heart beat steadily, his warmth reaching in to ease the chill in her own. Each soothing stroke of his hand on her hair made her heart ache more.

  ‘Talk to me, sweetheart.’

  ‘You’ve lost so much already. Now you have Harry and Casey to care for. I can’t be a burden to you too.’

  ‘Heather, you’re a strong, independent woman who has brought so much happiness to this town. How can you even think you’ll be a burden?’

  ‘Because I might have Motor Neurone like my mother had. I can’t give you forever. I won’t have children. And when it comes to the end, I’ll be totally reliant on you, completely incapacitated. I can’t put you through what I went through with Mum.’

  His hands traced soothing circles on her back. ‘Last time I checked loving someone meant taking the good with the bad. Sickness, health, richer, poorer—isn’t that what the vows say?’ He pressed a kiss to her head. ‘We’ll see this through together. You said you might have MND. What if you don’t and you walk away now?’

  Heather pushed out of his arms. If she didn’t go now, he’d wear her down, make her believe in happy ever afters. She started picking up her clothes from where they’d landed the night before, the memories of a night in Travis’ arms whirling in her head. If all she got to keep was those memories, she had to be content with it.

  ‘The preliminary blood tests showed a gene anomaly. Doc Benson has referred me to a specialist in Perth.’ She stepped into her underwear and pulled on her jeans. Going through the motions. It’s what she had to do every day from now on.

  ‘I’ll come with you. You don’t have to do this alone.’

  ‘I do have to do it alone.’ Her words caught on a breath. ‘It happens fast or it happens slow, Travis. Either way, everyone suffers. You deserve better than that.’

  She looked at him standing at the window, gloriously naked and strong, a frown etching his brow. Her soul ached with loving him, but she’d rather break his heart now before she got too deep.

  ‘So you sleep with me and then decide it’s over.’ His voice was dangerously quiet in the room, the edge it carried razor sharp. He raked a hand through his hair. ‘Did what we shared last night mean absolutely nothing to you? I have too much at stake as Casey’s guardian to treat relationships like one night stands, Heather.’

  His words sliced her soul, guilt eating into the wound. She shook her head. ‘It meant everything to me.’

  ‘So why are you running away?’ He walked towards her, placed his hands on her arms. ‘If the tests are positive and you are ill, I’d rather enjoy a few precious moments with you than live a lifetime without you. I love you, Heather.’

  The honesty in his words, in his eyes, shattered what was left of her resolve, but she dragged her willpower to the fore. ‘I can’t stay, Travis.’

  His mouth hardened, the light in his eyes dimming, every muscle in his body stiff as he stepped back. ‘Then go. Go now before Casey wakes up. She loves you, Heather. I had hopes of us being a family, but I can see loving you isn’t enough to keep you here.’

  ‘All the more reason for me to leave. I never wanted to get anyone’s hopes up. I never planned on having a family.’

  Travis walked over to the bedroom door and opened it. ‘Don’t let me stop you then. Run away, Heather. Run away from the people who love you, who want to stand by your side. Harry won’t remember, but Casey will. And if you think leaving now won’t hurt us, you’re wrong.’

  Heather picked up her car keys and purse, her feet
heavy as she moved to the door. She stopped in front of him, searched his face, but he kept his gaze on the wall.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, the ache in her heart so strong she thought it might actually break. She watched the mask descend on his features, cold and distant, and knew she’d lost him forever.

  ***

  Elliott was sitting at Heather’s desk when she walked into the office after a shower and change of clothes. She’d hauled her suitcases out of the cupboard and had already started throwing her belongings into them, her mind closed to the pain the thought of leaving raised.

  ‘How soon can I leave, Elliott?’

  Her boss sat back in the chair, his eyebrows raised. ‘I didn’t think you’d want to leave. It’s pretty clear you have a thing for Bailey, Heather. The Bannisters weren’t wrong on that account.’

  ‘They are wrong. The Baileys were clients just like every other case I’ve worked. You were the one who took me off the case and arranged this transfer. I want it to happen. The sooner the better.’

  Elliott’s gaze narrowed on her thoughtfully. ‘That’s not the impression I got yesterday. You don’t seem to realise how well you fit into this community.’

  ‘It’s my job. Now it’s done and it’s time to move on.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Elliott muttered. ‘This wouldn’t have anything to do with those blood tests, would it? Are you throwing all this away because of an illness you’re not even sure you have?’

  She’d had to tell Elliott about the testing, declare any hereditary illnesses on the health check required for her job application. Heather tipped up her chin and ignored his question.

  He picked up his pen and tapped it on the case folder in front of him. ‘Did I ever tell you about my wife?’

  Heather frowned. Elliott was married? She’d never heard rumours of a wife or seen proof of one since he joined the department.

  ‘No,’ she replied, taking a seat on the opposite side of the desk.

  ‘When I met her, she was nineteen, just starting out her career as a runway model. Two years later she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Sadly it was too late already. The cancer had spread and was aggressive. We got married in the spring that year and less than six months later she was gone.’

  Heather shifted in her seat. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I’m not. We had two and a half beautiful years together. There was anger, pain, suffering, yes. But there were a multitude of very happy moments too and I wouldn’t change that for anything. You get my point?’

  ‘Loud and clear, Elliott. I’m sorry for your loss, I really am, but I need to deal with this my way. I’d like to leave as soon as possible.’

  ‘You might be needed to give evidence in the Bannister case.’

  ‘Then I’ll be there when I’m needed.’

  ‘I got the impression you are needed … right here. You’re cleared on the conflict of interest complaint. The townsfolk were quite happy to go in to bat for you. I have a file full of glowing recommendations and character references.’ He dropped the pen and steepled his fingers. ‘Maybe you should think about that for a moment.’

  ‘Elliott, now is not the time for you to see things in technicolour.’ Heather fidgeted with the cup holding her array of pens. She had to harden her heart against this damn town that had woven its magic around her, made her feel like there was something to live for after all, only to have it ripped from her again when the time came.

  He chuckled. ‘Sometimes a man has to play hard ball. I know you think I’m a black and white man, Heather. Mostly, it’s true. In this case, I’m prepared to colour outside the lines.’

  ‘I’ll send you a colouring book so you can embrace your inner child and explore your newfound talent.’ She smiled grimly. ‘Great to see you’re human after all, but you won’t change my mind. I can be packed and out of here in a couple of hours.’

  Elliott sighed. ‘If you insist, I can’t stop you. Your first job when you get back to the city is to check up on Harry. He’ll be in hospital there for a few days more. I need an assessment on his state of health, both physical and mental, so we can add him to the visitation list for when he comes home.’

  ‘Who’ll be filling my position?’

  ‘I hear Martha Wallace wants to come back to Wongan Creek.’

  ‘Oh, Elliott! You can’t do that to these poor people. She’s a terror!’

  He cocked an eyebrow at her, a grin tugging at his lips. With a shrug, he turned and tucked the folder into the filing cabinet. ‘Choices, Miss Penney. They always have consequences.’

  Half an hour later, Heather tossed her cases in the boot of her four-wheel drive. No matter how guilty she felt about leaving the town to the mercy of Martha Wallace, it was the best for all of them. Of that she was certain. Elliott had it wrong. The town didn’t need her and everyone there had their own problems without her adding to them.

  She stood in the doorway and took a moment to look around the house that had been home for the past six months. It echoed the emptiness in her heart. For all its pretty cottage décor and warm, welcoming feel, it had never really been home for Heather.

  There were none of her precious knickknacks on display. She’d never unpacked her box of crystals or the small collection of Royal Dalton statues her mum had treasured. They were the only things her mum had kept as a reminder of Heather’s grandparents. She’d destroyed all photographs and correspondence, and all traces of her heritage—even her Irish passport once she had her Australian citizenship. Now the little she’d left behind gathered dust in a storage unit in Perth along with all their memories of life in Darwin. All Heather had arrived with was her clothes, and that was all she’d take away with her.

  When she’d come to this small town, she hadn’t bargained on finding friendship with the ladies of the CWA or forming a bond with a lonely old man and a family she’d grown to love. It had never occurred to her that she might want to stay.

  The realisation made her chest ache, but even so Heather knew it was time to face her demons away from the emotional ties no matter how tempted she was to stay. She’d be taking her suitcases, but be leaving her heart behind.

  Heather closed the front door and locked it then got in the car and drove the couple of streets up to Main Street. Outside the real estate agent’s office, she dropped the key through the brass slot in the front door. The flap clanged shut with a finality that made her realise another part of her life was over. More memories to hold close to an empty heart.

  The town was stirring slowly and she met the ‘good mornings’ with a little wave of her own. She’d miss them all, but such was life. With one last look, she got into the car and drove away, ignoring the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

  Chapter 21

  ‘Why the hell have I got a cast on my arm?’ Harry tapped on the plaster of Paris mould with his knuckles. ‘And why is my ankle strapped up tighter than a virgin’s chastity belt?’

  Travis sighed. ‘You had a run in with a hole and a bad guy.’

  Harry snorted. ‘That only happens in the movies. You taking me home?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Good. The food here is shit.’

  ‘Yes, but the nurses are prettier.’ Travis patted his shoulder. ‘I heard you asked one to marry you.’

  ‘She had painkillers and I needed them. I’m not as tough as I used to be.’

  ‘You’re a hell of a lot tougher than you think. Come on, Hotel Bailey has a room ready for you.’ Travis helped him up out of the chair next to the hospital bed.

  Harry held up his plaster cast. ‘You gonna wipe my arse too?’

  ‘That’s your left hand, you old bastard. Your right one works just fine.’

  Harry chuckled. ‘Still got your spark even though that face is pretty miserable. What’s got you looking so sorry for yourself?’

  Travis rubbed the scar on his eye. The stitches were out and it had healed nicely. The bruises he’d got thanks to Zac Bannister had faded to a tinge of yellow and h
is jaw no longer ached when he chewed. If only his heart wasn’t battered and his dreams weren’t filled with Heather, he’d be just fine.

  On the upside, the DNA testing on the clothes found in the pit matched Zac’s, Tracy’s phone had held video and sound she’d taken as he’d chased her down to the creek. The cocky fool had let her film the whole thing, then taken over as he’d held her head under water and watched her drown, never thinking the phone would survive to give evidence.

  The remains were identified as a girl who’d gone missing while hitchhiking from Perth to Kalgoorlie. He’d confessed to indecent assault and murder, and now waited in a maximum security prison for sentencing. Prison had its own kangaroo court and Zac had pissed off a few people when he’d given up the names of a few of his bikie mates. Shower time for him would be an interesting party.

  Justice was served and Travis should be happy as the town came to terms with having harboured a murderer. He had the answers that had plagued him since Tracy’s death. Casey was his forever and his plea for adoption had been approved thanks to Elliott. Harry was coming home, Robbie’s paw had healed and the sheared sheep were happily grazing in the newly harvested and turned canola field. But victory wasn’t as sweet as it could be.

  He’d read up on the effects of Motor Neurone Disease, researched the care a patient would require, and realised it was all useless if the person who needed it didn’t want to be cared for. So he’d sucked it up and tried not to think about her every time he sat on the sofa with his feet up. Or remembered to put the toilet seat down. Or when he ran the firebreak on Fantasia’s back hoping to see her four-wheel drive pulled up on the side of the road so she could pretend she wasn’t checking him out and give him shit about his arse. His arse missed the grip of her hands and the rest of him hankered for her too.

  ‘Is that pretty little social worker gonna take care of me when I get home?’

  Harry so remembered the wrong things at the worst times. Couldn’t he remember the things that didn’t make Travis’ heart ache?