Ethan rode slower along the dirt road that led to their patch of river. She took in the changes to their little strip of road. There were signs all along the edges that many vehicles had been here. The police were still at the Palmers’. She gripped Ethan tighter as they passed the white gate. The last time she’d seen it was through the rear window of the car as Ashton had shut it. How gullible she’d been.
Ethan cruised slowly down his drive. They climbed off the bike, took off their helmets and patted Jasper. Savannah turned to Ethan. His face gave nothing away.
At the bottom of the back steps she stopped and made him turn. She could stand his silence no longer. She looked into his eyes. They were dark pools of sadness.
“Why did we leave?” she asked.
“I’m sorry. I know it was rude but after Mal and I spoke I couldn’t just go back to the picnic and sit there making small talk.”
“How did it go with your father?”
“Not easy.”
“You seem so miserable.”
“Not really. I accepted a long time ago we were different. We both believe in our own causes.”
“That’s where you’re alike.”
He frowned at her.
“You might have made different life choices but you’re both strong and determined in those beliefs,” she said.
“We both bent a little today. You could say we met each other halfway. We agreed to try,” Ethan said. “We got a bit of stuff off our chests without coming to blows.”
“At least you’re talking,” she said.
“I don’t think we’ll ever be close.”
“Maybe with time.”
“Maybe.” Ethan sighed. “There are things I know he wants me to tell him about Afghanistan. He thinks it will make my choice clearer for him but he’s wrong. Our beliefs are fundamentally different. I can only talk about what happened over there with people who understand.”
“And I’m not one of those people either.”
Ethan faced her and took both her hands in his. “Don’t be hurt,” he said. “I’m glad you don’t understand. Maybe in time I can tell you some of it but for now, can you just accept me as I am?”
“What exactly is that?”
He smiled.
“A slightly broken soldier who wants a normal life with the woman he loves.”
“Look who you’re talking too. I’m the slightly broken woman with her own demons.”
“Stay with me, Sav.” His eyes darkened and he pulled her close. “We’re good together.”
She nudged her nose against his and grinned.
“It’s tragic you know, but my bloody brother was right. We do make a good pair.”
“Does that mean …?”
“I’ve been thinking too. You’re stuck with me.”
He lowered his lips to hers. Their bodies wrapped together. She felt herself melt inside knowing she loved him. She trusted Ethan with her body and her heart. It was a wonderful feeling. His lips moved down her neck.
She groaned and pulled away. “Hold that thought,” she said. “First I have to make a proper arrangement with Jaxon. None of this coming and going whenever he feels like it. We’ve got a business to run.”
“Let’s go and talk to him now. We’ve kept him in the dog house for long enough.”
She laughed then squealed as Ethan scooped her up and lifted her over the fence. Jasper barked.
“Come on then,” Ethan said. “You can come too.”
Savannah gasped as the dog jumped the fence with ease.
“So that’s how he came to me. I thought he couldn’t …”
“He knows his boundaries.” Ethan ran his hands down her body.
“Unlike his master,” Savannah said. She encased one of his roaming hands in hers. “Later,” she said. “I’ve got a business to organise, remember?”
Hand-in-hand they walked down to the river. The four houseboats were lined up along the bank. Jaxon was sweeping the front deck of Tawarri. He stopped and watched them approach.
“You’ve come back,” he said with a wary look.
“We have.” Savannah gave him a grin and walked the gangplank to the deck. “Thought I’d better come and give you a hand.”
“Really?” Relief flooded his face.
“I want to make sure my investment is up to scratch.”
“You’ll stay?”
“She will,” Ethan said.
“You’ll live here?” Jaxon threw down the broom. “At the river? Manage the boats?”
“Whoa, whoa,” Savannah said. “If I stay we’re going to do this properly, Jaxon.”
“Yes!” He high-fived her. “Yes we are.”
“We might need a name change for a start.”
“What’s wrong with J&S Houseboats?”
Savannah put her hands to her hips. “Jaxon Smith Houseboats leaves out your partner.”
“It’s not Jaxon Smith Houseboats, you dummy.” Jaxon laughed. “It’s J and S … Jaxon and Savannah.”
She gaped at him.
“I did it for the two of us, Sav,” he said gently.
Savannah shook her head. She was just beginning to understand the meaning of family again.
Jaxon smiled at her. “There’s lots to do. I need my big sister.”
“I’m not just doing the shit work,” she warned.
“And she means that literally.” Ethan smirked.
“I’m going to learn this ticket thing so I can do the fun stuff as well,” Savannah said. “I want to be able to drive these boats.”
“Whatever you want,” Jaxon said.
Savannah knew she did have everything she wanted – a business, a family, the man she loved and all of it together on this magical strip of water, the Murray River.
She crossed back to bank and wrapped her arms around Ethan.
“I’m home,” she said.
Behind them Jaxon gave a blast of Tawarri’s horn and Jasper barked.
“Now it’s official,” Ethan laughed.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The inspiration for this story came from several houseboat holidays on the beautiful Murray River. The tranquil surroundings and the company of good friends are very conducive to setting the writer’s brain pondering the ‘what if’ questions. Of course once I’d posed those questions I had to follow up with research.
I would particularly like to thank Jodie Butson who manages FoxTale Houseboats with her husband Michael. Her hospitality and insight into the behind the scenes world of managing houseboats was such a help to me. She happily answered my crazy questions, read an early draft and added to my knowledge of the river.
This story touches on the lives of two fictitious returned soldiers from different eras. I did much reading and asked many questions to delve into the kind of life they might lead upon their return to civilian life. Special thanks to Alex for his frank conversation and early draft read to help fill in the gaps that my reading didn’t reveal. I appreciate your willingness to share a little of what it’s like to be a soldier and admire your dedication to the defence of our country and way of life.
To dear friends who willingly support the research and writing process and listen to my creative babble, thanks for being there. And thank you, Joy and Andrew, for providing that tranquil writing retreat.
There are so many fabulous writers out there who support through friendship, mentoring and through simply staying in touch. I am grateful to be part of such a diverse creative community.
Once again it’s been a pleasure to work with Glenda Downing who applies her spoonful of sugar to make the hard work of editing fun.
The crew at Harlequin, a huge thank you – to publisher Sue Brockhoff for believing in the early idea, to editor Annabel Blay for her enthusiasm and to all who do their bit to bring the book to life. What a fabulous team you are to work with.
Last but by no means least I am blessed to have a fantastic family who all do their bit to keep this writer afloat and writing. And to Daryl, my thanks
and love.
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ISBN: 9781488742668
TITLE: RIVERBOAT POINT
First Australian Publication 2014
Copyright © 2014 Tricia Stringer
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilisation of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission of the publisher:
Harlequin Enterprises
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Riverboat Point Page 33