Return to Totara Park

by Shirley Wine

  I thought she was fantasising. And the Judge had looked at her with such kindly pity.

  Jared was forced to gaze into his own black heart, his conscience a shrill and demanding mistress. God was there no end to the damage he’d done?

  Jared stood up, needing to see Winsome, needing to take her in his arms, to offer her some comfort and, God willing, make some amends.

  Too little, too late.

  Spurred on by a desperation he didn’t stop to question, Jared left the room and strode down the corridor towards their bedrooms. Entering the apartment, he heard Lacey snuffle in her sleep.

  More guilt slammed into him. His mother had threatened Lacey’s life, before she was even born. And you, Grainger, had the nerve to blame Winsome for leaving.

  As he reached the darkened doorway of their bedroom and before his hand found the light switch, he knew what he would find.

  The room was empty.

  “Dear God.” Fear slammed a fist in his gut. He spun on his heel and raced back to the lounge. “Winsome’s gone. Help me look for her.”

  The two brothers exchanged one single, telling, shocked glance. Fear made Jared’s blood run cold. Quentin slammed down his mug and with instant silent understanding the two men divided the huge house in half, searching every room.

  “Where the hell could she have gone?” Quentin muttered when their check of all the outbuildings around the house yielded no sign of her and they found the car in the garage, untouched.

  “We’ll check all the farm buildings and then call the police if we can’t find her on the first sweep,” Jared rapped out harshly, taking charge. “Catherine, you stay in the house in case Lacey wakes.” He turned to Quentin. “You grab some torches while I get coats.”

  Armed with torches and fear, the two men fanned out and moved swiftly and thoroughly through the farm buildings. Jared’s fear grew as he felt the cold rapidly penetrate his thick coat.

  Had Winsome stopped to put on anything warm?

  In her state of mind? Mocked an inner voice. Get real.

  That grim thought prodded Jared’s increasing urgency, desperate to find her before she succumbed to the silent and deadly killer, cold.

  But was he already too late?

  Too often in the past he’d failed Winsome. He wouldn’t fail her now.

  From the next barn Quentin’s shout echoed on the still, cold air. Jared was running before the sound died away. His brother was in the barn where Fly had her puppies, kneeling down beside Winsome’s too still body.

  God, please don’t let me be too late Jared prayed, as he’d never prayed before.

  He knelt by her side, felt for a pulse at her throat and breathed out raggedly as he felt a faint thread of life beating in her icy cold body. Thank you, God.

  “She’s frozen but breathing,” Jared said ripping off his fleecy lined Swandri, warm with his own body heat, and wrapping it around her chilled form. He looked at his brother. “Go phone Clinton. Have Catherine fill all the hot water bottles and put them in our bed and start a bath running. Pronto.”

  Winsome stirred and moaned as Jared lifted her. The sound was music to his ears.

  “Hush,” he whispered, holding her close hurrying as fast as he dared through the dark night towards the homestead. “I have you safe.”

  Winsome wasn’t a big woman but, by the time he reached the house, Jared’s arms were trembling with fatigue. Quentin hovered looking worried and ready to relieve his brother of his burden, but Jared shouldered past him and went directly to their rooms.

  He couldn’t bear anyone else tending to his wife.

  “Do you want me to bring the brandy?” Catherine asked hovering in the doorway.

  “No.” Jared didn’t pause from the grim task of stripping the wet clothes off Winsome’s inert body. “Spirits could kill her.”

  He glanced up into Catherine’s pale distressed face and explained, “Hypothermia shuts the body down and blood only reaches vital organs. Spirits cause a rush of blood to the stomach denying other organs blood, resulting in organ failure and death.”

  Jared lowered Winsome into the warm water and to his great relief she stirred and lifted weighted eyelids.

  “Where am I?” she asked, her voice slurred and almost unintelligible.

  “At home.” Jared supported her with one arm as he lifted the flannel and pooled warm water down over her neck and breasts. “In the bath.”

  A violent shudder wracked her slender body.

  “You’re burning me,” she moaned threshing about in the water.

  Brows drawn with worry, Jared put the crook of his elbow in the water. It was only warm and nowhere near capable of burning. She was colder than he’d thought.

  Where was the damn doctor when he needed him?

  “It’s okay,” he soothed softly “You’re so cold the water feels a lot hotter than it is. We’ll soon have you warm.”

  Winsome gave no indication she was lucid enough to understand. She moaned as feeling came back to chilled flesh. He laid a towel over her body to retain every scrap of heat.

  “You’ll be lucky to escape pneumonia,” Jared muttered as he added more hot water to the bath. When she began to shiver, her teeth clattering like castanets, his grim expression lightened with relief. Her chilled body was responding to the slow infusion of warmth.

  “How do you feel now?” he asked after the shivering eased to the occasional tremor.

  “Cold,” she muttered and then overtaken with another bout of violent shudders, “on fire.”

  Jared watched the rosy flush creep up her cheeks with considerable alarm. “Let’s get you dried and dressed and into bed.”

  Winsome more alert now she was warmer, didn’t resist Jared’s help to get dried and dressed in a warm flannel gown and then helped into the warm bed.

  “Why are you being so kind?” she asked looking at him like a solemn little sparrow.

  Jared winced at the direct question. “Did you think I couldn’t be kind?”

  Winsome stared at him, her expression so vulnerable his heart hurt.

  “I wasn’t reading when Matthew drowned, Jared.” She enunciated the words with care as if she had difficulty making her tongue do what her brain wanted.

  “I realise that now,” he said in a low rasping voice, eyes dark with remorse as he pulled her into his arms warming her with his own body heat.

  A knock on the door interrupted them. Catherine looked around the door, saying timidly, “Dr Perry is here.”

  Jared stood up away from the bed as Clinton Perry walked into the room.

  “Hello, Winsome. Jared.” His smile was genial as he looked from one to the other. “What’s this I hear about you taking a midnight stroll in your slippers in this weather?”

  Winsome managed a shaky chuckle. This man hadn’t changed any in the intervening years.

  “How are you now?” He sat on the edge of the bed, took her wrist and felt her pulse. He looked at Jared. “How cold was she?”

  “Unconscious,” he said spreading his hands. “I warmed her up in the bath.”

  Winsome’s heart jumped and then raced at Jared’s curt words. Unconscious. She shivered in reaction. She didn’t need anyone to tell her she was lucky. She’d had a narrow escape.

  “Good work,” Clinton said mildly getting his stethoscope from his bag. “Let’s listen to your chest, Winsome.”

  Shaken by Jared’s terse description, she offered no resistance to the examination. The doctor took his time, taking considerable care examining her fingers and toes.

  Jared was standing on the other side of the room looking at nothing in particular, his hands buried in his pockets. Something in the way he was holding himself made her extremely nervous.

  “You should be okay,” Clinton said at last folding his stethoscope. “But to be on the safe side I want you to stay in bed tomorrow.”

  Winsome looked up sharply at that. “Jared needs me to help him tomorrow.”

  “You heard the doctor. T
omorrow you stay in that bed.” Jared’s expression was so grim she ceased arguing. “Quentin can help me and I’ll get a friend to come and sit with you and keep an eye on Lacey.”

  Clinton Perry nodded his agreement of Jared’s firm order. He stood up and laid a hand on her shoulder.

  “No one’s indispensable, Winsome. Rest up tomorrow and you may escape this bout of exposure with nothing worse than a cold.” His unspoken words left Winsome chilled. When he looked at Jared with a considering expression, she was worried. “Make sure she drinks plenty and—” he paused a moment and looked at them both with shrewd eyes—”it may be a good idea to leave on hold whatever you were discussing that made you run out into the night. Stress won’t help any.”

  Winsome felt a flush heat her face and looked away discomforted.

  She felt such a fool.

  It had been incredibly stupid to run out into such bitter weather so poorly clad. Had Jared not found her when he had, it may well have been too late.

  Clinton prepared to leave and Jared walked with him to the door. Shaken with another fit of shivering, Winsome slid under the blankets and was drowsing when Jared returned.

  He sat on the side of the bed, his face so grave she shivered and this time not from the cold.

  “Now’s not the time to discuss tonight’s revelations,” he said soberly, his face showing the strain of subduing his horrific thoughts. “Clinton has ordered you to rest and be free of stress for a few days. But we will discuss it.”

  Winsome stared at him her mouth dry with apprehension.

  Jared just looked at her, his eyes filled with conflicting emotions.

  “What is it with you? Do you have a death wish?” he asked with soft vehemence, his voice trembling in the aftermath of fear.

  Winsome flushed scarlet knowing his rebuke was justified. Running out into the cold had been a stupid thing to do, an action that could have had disastrous consequences.

  “I didn’t think,” she mumbled.

  He lifted a shaking hand and smoothed the hair away from her face. “Well next time, do think. What was I meant to tell Lacey if it had been too late when we found you?” he asked in a stark, tormented voice. “I’ve lost you once. Do you think I want to lose you again?”

  Tears stood out on Winsome’s lashes as she heard the raw emotion in his voice.

  “Quentin’s right about one thing. You’ve got to curb this instinct of yours for running away from anything that upsets you.”

  He leaned closer and kissed her forehead. The gentle pressure of his lips made her want to cry. He moved away as if he was being dragged by force from her side.

  “While you’re resting up tomorrow you might also think about that. Adults confront problems, Winsome. They don’t run away.”

  .oOo.

  “This smells delicious.”

  Winsome sat up as Caroline Moody came into the room carrying a tray.

  “I’ve kept it light and nourishing.” She placed the tray over Winsome’s knees.

  To Winsome’s surprise she discovered she was hungry and was wonderfully replete when she’d eaten everything on her plate.

  “Thank you, I enjoyed that.” She studied the other woman. Her hair was snow-white and her face was serene and unlined, everyone’s ideal grandmother.

  Remembering the jealousy she’d felt over this woman, Winsome grimaced. She’d certainly never expected a woman older than Gaelen and Jared, damn him, had known what she’d thought. “How long have you known Jared?”

  “Since he was a dirty-kneed schoolboy.” She laughed, grey eyes twinkling with good-natured humour. “In the past five years he’s probably spent more time in my house than he did here. Gaelen didn’t approve of his friendship with me.”

  “You taught him to cook?”

  “I did indeed.” She gave Winsome a delightful smile. “I enjoy cooking and it’s more fun to cook for two. Jared got into the habit of dropping in for dinner and the cooking lessons grew from there.”

  Winsome shifted uncomfortably in the bed. She wanted to get up and walk around and felt a fraud lolling around while this woman waited on her. But Winsome had had her orders and one look at Jared’s grim expression had seen her obey them, implicitly.

  “I tried to persuade him to go and see you, Winsome,” Caroline said watching the younger woman intently. “I told him he needed to talk to you, quietly and calmly and try and sort out your problems, but between Harvey and Gaelen, my guess is that he was pretty well brain-washed.”

  Something in the older woman’s intent gaze set Winsome’s heart thudding. What was she trying to say? “Brainwashed?”

  “Don’t let Harvey’s mild ways fool you, Winsome.” Caroline picked up the dinner tray and stood looking down at the younger woman her expression grave. “He was a Grainger to the bone. And he knew well the deference owed to the family name.”

  A shiver slid over Winsome’s skin. How feudal. Shocked by the implications of those blunt words, she stared at Caroline. “What do you mean?”

  Caroline hesitated and Winsome felt the palms of her hands grow damp. She clenched one into a fist beneath the blankets as she waited for the other woman to speak, filled with a nameless apprehension. This woman was Jared’s trusted friend and confidant and whatever she had to impart would not be said out of malice.

  “Harvey had to think Jared had married beneath him when he brought you home as his bride,” Caroline said soberly. “Which begs the question, why did he leave his will as he did.”

  Long after she’d gone, leaving her to rest, Winsome worried Caroline’s words.

  Did Harvey, like Gaelen think Jared had married beneath him?

  Winsome found the notion repugnant. That had to make Harvey, visiting her so often and taking on Lacey’s guardianship the worst kind of hypocrite, unless he was driven by another motive.

  Surely Caroline had it wrong?

  Then remembering the secrecy with which Jared had courted and married her, Winsome knew the older woman was right.

  There was only one reason that made any sense.

  Her marriage to the elder Grainger son would never have taken place had his parents known about it beforehand. So what possible reason could Harvey have had for willing her half of Totara Park?

  Winsome had the sick feeling she was caught in the middle of a situation that she didn’t understand, that both her and Jared were mere pawns in a bigger game.

  Only someone forgot to explain to them just what game they were playing.

  Or give them any clue as to the rules.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Something cold touching her nose roused Winsome.

  She batted a hand at the disturbance and it went away only to come back again from the other side. With a sleepy grumble of annoyance she rolled over only to have the coldness find her there. She batted it away again but when her hand collided with the cold object, she opened her eyes.

  Jared was sitting on the side of the bed touching her face with his hand.

  Winsome blinked, yawned and then stretched. “What time is it?”

  “Dinner time,” Jared said, putting his ice-cold hand on her sleep-flushed cheek.

  She yelped, pulling away. “Did the heifers arrive, okay?”

  “They did,” Jared gave her a lazy smile. “Caroline says you’ve slept the day away.”

  “I must have been more tired than I thought.”

  That was only part of it. The tension of living with Jared, her return to Totara Park, coupled with fear of his reaction to learning his adored son’s death was no accident had drained her mental reserves. “Where’s Lacey?”

  “Waiting impatiently for dinner. I’ll have a quick shower. Caroline wants to know if you want dinner in bed or with us?”

  “With you.”

  “Don’t worry about getting dressed.” Jared strode to the dresser and extracted clean clothes. “Just wrap up warmly.”

  As he went into the bathroom, she slid out of bed, donned her warm dressing gown and sli
ppers then brushed her tangled ebony curls.

  For several long moments, she studied her reflection.

  Dark curls framed an oval face, she knew she wasn’t really pretty. Her best features were her vivid blue eyes and long sooty eyelashes. While she wasn’t vain, Winsome could see nothing to cause offence.

  But it wasn’t about looks it was about bloodlines. And face it Winsome, some mongrel orphanage brat wasn’t a suitable match for the Grainger heir.

  “You’re looking pensive.” Jared came out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, tawny hair damp, every unruly strand slicked into place. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Who did your parents want you to marry, Jared?”

  He did a double take, staring at her in shocked surprise. That question had come out of the left field, not quite sure herself what had prompted it.

  “Why on earth would you ask something like that now?”

  “Why not? It’s obvious they never considered me good enough to marry you.”

  Jared looked at her through narrowed eyes for a moment and then walked over to her. “What’s this all about or should I ask who’s been talking?”

  “It was just a comment that Caroline made.”

  He nodded and sighed softly. “It was always assumed that I would marry a daughter of one of their friends.”

  “Why didn’t you?” Winsome’s heart thudded as he confirmed her suspicions. “Because you met me?”

  “Yes.” Jared spread his hands in an expansive gesture.

  “So what was I, an act of rebellion or a last-ditch stand for independence?” Winsome barely understood what was driving these searching questions.

  Jared’s lips thinned and his nostrils flared. “What is this?”

  She never said anything, just waited until he said, “Is it too much to believe that you were the love of my life?”

  Yes, every instinct screamed. She stared at him gravely.

  “What momentous conclusion have you reached?” he asked with a thread of sarcasm.

  “That if marrying me was an act of rebellion, it’s surely backfired.”

  “You’re being ridiculous.” He walked over and opened the door, gesturing for her to precede him.