A Reason To Stay

by Linda Charles

  Despite his best effort to hide it, she saw through his disappointment. She went inside and grabbed her bag.

  ‘I won’t be long.’

  By the time she caught up with Mike he was standing by his car.

  After the run her heart was pounding hard; she was breathless and clinging to the side of his car for support.

  ‘Mike, what’s happened?’

  His head shot up and her heart quaked. His face was pale and his eyes were the darkest she’d ever seen them.

  He turned away.

  ‘Tell me.’

  His eyes drilled into hers; they were blazing with anger.

  ‘Caitlyn doesn’t want to come out. I got an email from Leanne’s parents’ solicitor this morning. They want to take out a legal guardianship over her.’

  It took a few seconds for his words to sink in. Her eyes roamed his face, which was closed. His lips were set hard, as was his jaw. His beautiful big dark eyes, usually so warm with light-hearted mischief, were flashing danger, anger and sadness all at once.

  Every sense in her body was on high alert.

  ‘God, I hate feeling so useless. How could they do this? Even think of it?’

  Ignoring his angry stance, she stepped forward with all her lawyerly cover, but inside she was quaking. She didn’t want to look like she cared, but she did. Very much. ‘They’re frightened. It’s a big thing to send a young girl across the other side of the world. Think about it for a second.’

  His eyes flashed at her. ‘I’m her father and I’m not saying that that gives me an automatic claim over her life, but to think they would consider this without giving me a call?’

  ‘They know you’ve bought the home and are renovating. It’s getting crunch time to them and coming out here to see everything doesn’t cut it.’

  She wanted to take him in her arms, but something held her back. Besides, what good would that do? Comfort would not solve his problem. She would comfort him in the only way she knew how, with action.

  ‘Where are you going?’ she asked.

  ‘To Bourke. I’m seeing Chris, you met him the other night, he’s a solicitor and I need some advice.’

  ‘Okay, I’m coming with you.’

  Mike shook his head. ‘Thanks, Rach, but this is my problem and I’ll deal with it.’

  ‘You’re too close to think straight,’ she argued.

  He gave her the briefest of smiles.

  ‘I’ll be fine. Chris is a good guy.’

  She stamped her foot.

  ‘Will you stop being so righteous. I know how these things work. You’re so wound up thinking about Caitlyn that anything Chris says will go straight over your head. Please, let me be there.’

  He tossed his keys up in the air. ‘It’s all good, Rach. You’ve got a lot happening today at the bakery. I’ll fill you in later.’

  She wanted to give him a good shake. Didn’t he realise how hard this was to fight? He was a good man and Caitlyn needed to know that. This was not going to be easy and he needed Caitlyn on his side. If her own father had been half as decent as Mike she would have fought God himself to stay with him. No way was she going to sit on the sidelines and wait to be filled in.

  ‘Please, Mike.’

  Don’t shut me out.

  The earnestness in her voice shocked her. Where did that come from? For most of her life she’d been calm and clear thinking. She inched closer to him, her mind was clear, but she wasn’t calm.

  Something in her words scored a hit. He wavered.

  She did her best to look calm and in control. He gave a perfunctory nod. It was better than nothing.

  ‘Okay, come on.’

  She didn’t argue and climbed in before he had second thoughts.

  Mike put on his favourite CD and played it at full volume. His message couldn’t have been clearer: don’t speak to me. She didn’t mind, it gave her a chance to mull over a few things.

  She had only ever seen a photo of Caitlyn and she’d been looking forward to meeting her.

  Who wouldn’t want to come and live in her beautiful country? Nothing was wrong with Mindalby. Her life began when she moved to Mindalby. She’d been well educated, there were opportunities and Caitlyn would be loved.

  Then it struck her, and she smiled at the irony. Who’d have thought she could do an up sale of Mindalby?

  ***

  Hours later Rachael sank onto the soft lounge chair nearest the kitchen in Mike’s house. She took a sip of the cold beer he had handed her and watched as a drip of water slid down the outside of the bottle and landed on her hand.

  The ice cold beer both cooled and calmed her. It had been a rough day and Mike’s continued silence worried her.

  The familiar sounds, as he poured himself a drink, washed over her as she waited for him to join her.

  His home had a lovely feel to it, and she loved the changes Mike had done to it. Gone were the small room add-ons that didn’t quite connect and work together. The back of his home faced north and each room along that side had a set of glass sliding doors and overlooked his garden. The garden was woeful, but she knew he’d have a design drawn up.

  Who would have thought Mike’s problem would have cemented her own thoughts and feelings about Mindalby? It was a good place to raise children. Hadn’t all the Henderson children, no matter where they originated from, ended up marrying and living in the Mindalby region? She was the lone member seduced by Sydney, by wanting something more. Where in Sydney could she find a guy with a heart as big as his body and a cheeky smile to match?

  ‘This is going to be a lovely home when you’ve finished. Your kitchen’s a great size.’

  Mike sat opposite her and he threw her a warning glare.

  ‘Rach, you’re no good at small talk. What are you trying to tell me?’

  She stared at him for a second. His expression was grim and her attempts at light-hearted conversation on the way back had been met with silence. It was clear his head was in another space. Was there a tipping point where you were close enough to say what you thought? Would Mike kick her out and say ‘it’s none of your business’?

  ‘I’m saying in a roundabout way the T-bones cooked well on the stove and there was plenty of room to serve out dinner. You’ve got plenty of bench space.’

  He stretched out. ‘What? Tossing a green salad and a potato salad out of a container onto two plates?’

  She took a sip of beer and again studied the drips sliding down the glass bottle. This was madness. He was the most approachable man she knew.

  Her words rushed out. ‘You’ve got to phone Caitlyn. Tonight.’

  Mike was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on his feet. ‘Forget it. Not tonight, I’m too angry.’

  His response surprised her. She sat forward in her chair.

  ‘Get over it. Caitlyn’s thirteen and you don’t know what she’s being told. We spoke about involving her by videoing different things you’re doing around here. We haven’t done that yet, but I think we should.’

  Mike glanced across at her, his eyes wide with surprise.

  At last a reaction.

  ‘Nice try, but after this latest development I don’t know which way to turn. Should I call her? Or call Leanne’s parents? Or, go over there, sort out the legals and bring her back?’

  Outrage ripped into her. Now was not the time to take a backwards step.

  She went over to him and, hands on hips, stood over him with the sternest expression she could muster. ‘No. You don’t go over there. You fight for her here. You woo her; you let her learn about you; get her to know about your life. Show her what you’re doing. You ask her about her. What do you know about Caitlyn?’

  His face paled. She could see her words were having an effect on him. He ran a shaky hand through his hair.

  ‘I used to know a lot. She clams up now.’

  ‘Call her and start learning. Anything you want to show her about living here, she can see on television. What she doesn’t have access to is you,
her father. Ask her why she missed the Skype. Demand some attention. Show up and take an interest.’

  She winced at the sharpness in her voice. She hadn’t meant to be so hurtful and accusing. It sounded like he was neglectful and that wasn’t what she meant. Mike was sitting opposite quietly nodding.

  She understood more than he knew. As a child he would have taken his parents’ interest in him as a given. Nancy and Bert were the first adults to sit her down and talk to her about herself, her dreams and plans. It was what she remembered and treasured the most. His weekly calls to Caitlyn had been happening for years and somehow they’d missed the mark big time.

  Mike scrunched up his face. ‘I’ve let her down.’

  Her gut tightened. She hated seeing him so upset. The meeting with Chris had been upsetting enough, and now was not the time for Mike to give in and stop the fight for Caitlyn.

  ‘Stop that thinking right now. This is just the first challenge. You haven’t even started.’

  She gathered their empty beer bottles and tossed them in the recycling bin on his kitchen bench. Without another word she picked up her bag and swung it over her shoulder.

  She paused for a moment to study him. His head was bent and he appeared lost in thought. What she wouldn’t give for the freedom to wrap her arms around his neck and tell him it would be alright. That kind of freedom came with a price tag.

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ she announced. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Mike swung around and stared at her, confusion in his eyes.

  ‘You’re going already?’

  Am I mad or what? What woman wouldn’t want to lounge around and just hang out with him?

  ‘That’s right. I have some work to do.’

  It was the worst excuse to use, but she needed some space away. She wanted him to spend time with Caitlyn who would see a different man. Her little outburst earlier proved she was growing a tad too close to Mike.

  He made his way to the front door, and she followed him in silence, a heavy choking silence. She hated it. This was not how she wanted things to be between them.

  ‘I hope it goes well tonight.’ Her voice was flat, devoid of any cheerfulness, but it was all she could muster.

  Mike stood in the doorway blocking her. He turned, facing her, his expression serious, the most serious since she’d met him.

  ‘You want to tell me what’s really going on here, Rach?’ he asked.

  The deep timbre of his voice set off small hits of heat that rippled across her skin.

  He was inches away, his chest a touch away and the mix of his body heat and male scent was intoxicating. The urge to reach out and pull him to her was nothing like she’d experienced before.

  Oh god, how easy and good would it be to stay? Too easy.

  Did he suspect there was something happening here between them? She’d been fighting her growing attraction to him ever since she’d met him. Besides, what didn’t he get? He’d lived and breathed in her corporate world, he knew the pressures, the stress and the high expectations. Every cell in her being wanted to stay, but could she risk her career by doing so? She wasn’t so brave as to put it to the test.

  She moved to pass him, but he wasn’t budging.

  ‘I don’t know, but I do know I have work to do.’

  Mike’s eyes flew to hers. She was startled by the heat in them. ‘That’s bullshit. You can work here, you know I won’t mind.’

  She fisted her hands and stood rigid before him. ‘Okay then, you have an important call to make and I don’t want to be privy to it.’

  With her head down she pushed her way past him. He didn’t fight her or say anything. She strode down Locker Road as fast as her legs could carry her. At the top end of the road she stood and waited. There was silence, no footsteps following her, no calls from him.

  Nothing.

  Her mind was in turmoil. She kept walking and at the T-junction at St George Boulevard, she turned right.

  Her body buzzed with unused energy. Her fingers were clenched so tight around her bag they ached. A fire inside her burned, it ate at her. She was a mixed-up wreck but she kept walking.

  She wished Mike had chased after her. Yes, her insides screamed, even to love her.

  Was that right? She stood on the corner and stared out at the empty neighbourhood. There would be no sleep for her tonight until she cleared her thoughts.

  Did she want someone to love her? Yes.

  All her life she’d been either outright rejected or second best. Mike had a daughter who would come first always. When would it be her turn? When would she be someone’s number one?

  But he hadn’t chased her. He hadn’t followed her. His first priority was his daughter, and that made perfect sense. It hurt, but she understood why. He was a father.

  She stretched her stiff body. In the distance a lone kookaburra cackled. It was time to go in.

  When she hit the corner of Hunter Street and Rolls Street she heard the fast steady pounding of a runner. She glanced at her watch; it had gone eleven.

  In the semi-darkness she saw Mike running down Locker Road. She gritted her teeth expecting him to run her way. Instead he stayed on Locker Road. His pace was fast, frighteningly fast for such a big man. Then he was gone.

  She hated fence-sitters. For most of her working life she railed against clients who were fence-sitters and were reluctant to tell all, and hid away from the truth. Wasn’t she doing the same thing? Too scared to risk it with Mike for fear of what? Living in Mindalby? Having a happy life? Was Mike right?

  Don’t be a fool.

  Pulling out her phone from her bag, she texted him: Sorry. I needed to clear my head. See you tomorrow?

  She stared at the message wondering what he’d read into it. She agonised for a minute about whether to ask after Caitlyn, but thought better of it.

  She hit the send button.

  By the time she reached the Henderson home her phone pinged.

  Definitely.

  Her body trembled with relief. Thank god she’d texted him.

  Her phone pinged a second time. Her heart gave a little turn. She checked the message.

  Gordon. Oh god, what now?

  Chapter 12

  Mike checked his watch and immediately switched from running to a jog in order to slow down his heart rate. With each step his body hummed. There was something soothing about running late at night. It was cool, quiet and he loved having the streets to himself. It was like he owned the pavement. The only ones who noticed him were the local cats roaming the streets checking out their territory.

  By the time he turned into Burton Park Road he was in a nice rhythm. He glanced across at the bakery. The back light was on. Puzzled, he crossed the street and peered in the front window. At the back of the bakery Rachael was sitting on the floor surrounded by papers. She looked tiny and vulnerable working on her own in that big empty space. He knocked on the glass, but she didn’t hear him.

  What is driving her?

  He pulled out his phone and texted I’m outside. In the next moment she looked up.

  When she opened the door he burst inside. ‘Please don’t tell me Gordon’s got you working?’

  A pained expression flitted across her face.

  Guilt shunted through him. Time with him was time away from a work deadline. But he could do something to change that; he could be a little more thoughtful and give her some space.

  He followed her to the rear of the bakery. Her movements were slow and when she reached her pile of documents she paused, turned a little and sank to the floor. She sat where she landed, crossed her legs and rested her back against the side wall. By her side lay three empty large packets of potato crisps and a half-eaten family block of fruit chocolate.

  She pulled back the loose hairs that circled her pale face. The rest of her hair was held together by a small clip in an untidy mess on the top of her head.

  ‘Rach, it’s almost one in the morning. It can’t be that urgent.’

  Her w
ide glassy eyes flew to his face. ‘Oh, but it is. You don’t understand.’

  He raised an eyebrow and she grimaced. He understood all too well. Not for a minute did he miss his life in the corporate world. From time to time he missed the money, but that was all. The insane work hours and pressures were intolerable and didn’t leave a lot of time for anything else.

  He shifted, conscious of her weary gaze studying him.

  ‘Were you out running?’

  He wasn’t about to admit that he couldn’t sleep because he wanted her. That he wanted to just be with her. Instead, he put those wishes aside.

  ‘I was too wired to sleep. So, I’m burning off a bit of steam.’

  ‘Funny that. I did too, except I walked.’

  He stared down at her, not wanting to interfere with her work, but, now that he was back with her, he had no intention of leaving. ‘What’s going on?’

  Her nod was slight. He turned, and on the wall opposite there were bundles of documents stacked in neat piles from one end to the other.

  ‘I have to proof-read sixteen documents by nine tomorrow morning for a meeting. There are two sets of changes in each document. The blue mark-up is from the other side and the red mark-up is from us. The third document is a combination of the two. I’m checking that all the changes are in.’

  He frowned. ‘Couldn’t a junior do this?’

  ‘They could, but no one’s available and at the last minute Gordon sent them through.’

  The tiredness in her voice stirred old feelings about his career. Feelings he’d locked away when he moved to Mindalby.

  Her workload wouldn’t lessen with a partnership. How could Gordon do this to her? He knew her mother remained in hospital with an infection. Why couldn’t he cut her a bit of slack?

  A slow burn started in the pit of his stomach. The expectation that the work would get done despite the late call infuriated him. So did the lack of acknowledgement that Rach might have a life outside of work.

  ‘Hell.’ It was all he could think to say.

  ‘Tell me about it,’ said Rach.

  I’m an idiot. He should have checked on her earlier, texted, called, dropped by; he knew she had a huge workload.