Christmas Down Under: Six Sexy New Zealand & Australian Christmas Romances

by Rosalind James

  “I understand.” She didn’t want to distract him, but suddenly she had to be with him. The urge came from deep within her, and she knew she had to make him agree. “Please, Owen.”

  He met her gaze. Something shot through her, the same way it had the first time she saw him, as if he’d reached out, grabbed her dress above her navel, and tugged it. He nodded. “Okay. But we have to leave now.”

  “I’ll get my bag.” She ran across the lawn and picked up her handbag, then stopped briefly to talk to Tasha and Kole, who were still dancing. They knew Owen was on call, so it only took her seconds to explain they had to leave, and then she was running toward the front of the hotel and out to the car.

  Owen was already there, with Mozart sitting on the back seat. Owen was in the process of getting changed and, as she ran up, he threw his tie and waistcoat into the boot, pulled his shirt over his head, still buttoned up, and hurriedly tugged on a T-shirt. In seconds, unmindful of the fact he was in a car park, he’d shucked his trousers and put on a pair of long shorts, and within another ten seconds he’d pulled on his thick socks and walking boots and laced them up.

  In less than a minute, he was in the car beside her and pulling away.

  She buckled herself in as he headed for the state highway. A small part of her had hoped she might be able to talk to him on the way, but within moments she realized that wasn’t going to happen.

  Slotting his phone in the holder, he punched in a number, and within seconds Marty had picked up.

  “Did your pager go off?” Owen asked.

  “Yep. I’m getting changed as we speak.”

  Owen told him what he knew.

  “Jesus,” Marty said. “That’s the youngest we’ve had.”

  “Yeah. We need to find him, Marty.”

  “We will.”

  “Can you make sure Josie and Kim know? I think Paul’s in Auckland this weekend but Theo’s around, and so’s Brian, so I’ll phone them, get the chain going.”

  “Will do. Meet you there?”

  “Yep. By the Nature Trail entrance.” Owen hung up. He immediately dialed Theo, but it went to answer phone. He left a curt message and rang off, then tried Brian. That, too, went to answer phone.

  “Fuck.” He banged the steering wheel.

  “Give me the phone—I’ll keep trying.” Skye took it from him.

  While Owen drove as fast as he could without endangering them both, Skye tried both numbers again repeatedly. “Would they have got the pager call and be on their way?”

  “Possibly, but we’re supposed to confirm by phone.”

  Eventually Theo answered. “Hello?”

  “I’m with Owen Hall,” she said to him, “just a sec—I’ll put it on speaker.”

  “Hey,” Owen called out. “Where were you?”

  “Sorry, mate, I was in the bath. The phone and pager were in the living room and Kath’s out.”

  Owen blew out a frustrated breath. “Okay, look, a kid’s gone missing in Puketi, a five-year-old boy.”

  “Oh, fucking hell.”

  “I know. Can you meet us there? By the Nature Trail entrance.”

  “On my way.” Theo hung up.

  Skye continued to call Brian, but it took another ten minutes before she was able to get through. He’d been out in his shed at the bottom of the garden, and he’d left the phone and pager indoors.

  Owen told him the news and Brian apologized and promised to meet him there. Owen didn’t berate him, but after he’d hung up he filled the air with the longest list of expletives Skye thought she’d ever heard.

  Skye waited until he’d run out of steam before saying, “Feel better now you’ve got that out of your system?”

  He gave her a wry look. “A bit. Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry, I get it.”

  “I’d understand if they weren’t on call, but when you know you might be needed, why wouldn’t you keep your phone on you at all times?”

  “I don’t know. Still, at least they’re coming.”

  “Yeah.” He pressed another button on his phone. “Let’s get an update and find out what’s happening.”

  He rang the police officer who’d originally called him, and spent five minutes going over the story in a bit more detail. Sue and Nick, the mother and father, had taken Dylan, the five-year-old boy, and his nine-year-old sister to the forest for a wander along the nature trail followed by a picnic. They’d walked for about half an hour from the main car park, found a picnic table, and stopped to eat. Dylan had spotted a rabbit and run after it, and the parents had laughed and called out that he’d never catch it. They’d then sat talking to their daughter for five minutes. When they’d realized he hadn’t returned, they’d grown concerned and had gone to find him, but in that short time Dylan had vanished, and even though they’d called and called, he hadn’t replied. Afraid of getting lost in the forest too, they’d rung the police, who’d immediately paged Search and Rescue. Several police cars and an ambulance were now waiting at the main entrance to the nature trail and six officers were scouting out the area, but without the dogs, Owen explained to Skye afterward, they’d have little chance of finding the boy if he’d wandered far.

  “I’m only five minutes away,” Owen said to the officer.

  “Marty’s just turned up,” the officer replied, “and another car’s just pulled in with a dog in the back so I think it’s one of yours.”

  “Cool. See you soon.” Owen hung up.

  He’d already left the main state highway, and now he turned right into a smaller road, following the signposts for the nature trail.

  “How well do you know the forest?” Skye asked.

  “Pretty good. Mozart and I come here a lot. The wooden walkway is great for visitors, and providing you stick to the main pathways, it’s not difficult to find your way around, but head off into the main forest and it’s real easy to get lost.”

  Skye watched him drive, seeing in his frown of concentration and the distant look in his eyes that he was already planning the rescue. His jaw was knotted, and when she glanced at his hands on the wheel, she saw his knuckles were white.

  “You’ll find him,” she said softly, putting a hand on his knee. “I know you will.”

  He gave her a quick glance before signaling and turning onto the track to the trail. “I hope so. My worry is there’s not that long until sunset. Luckily, it’s midsummer, but even so, we have less than three hours of daylight left.”

  “How long can you survive in the bush if you get caught in the dark?” She didn’t like to think of him and Mozart out there, stranded.

  “Oh, we’d always find our way back, don’t worry. I eat a lot of carrots.” He gave a small smile. “But it’s much more difficult to search in the dark. You could easily miss little signs that someone had been that way—broken twigs, scraps of cloth, or things they’d dropped, that sort of thing. I wouldn’t stop, though, especially for a kid.” He shivered.

  It must be bringing back so many memories for him, Skye thought. Please, she begged whoever was listening above, let him find the boy. He’d be distraught if he didn’t. If anything happened to the child, he’d never forgive himself.

  Within minutes, they’d reached the car park, which was a hive of activity, full of police cars and officers, the ambulance and paramedics, and lots of other people, some with dogs. Owen parked to one side, got out, and let Mozart out. Skye got out as well, feeling distinctly overdressed in her strappy sandals.

  Owen waved to Marty, who stood with a couple of police officers at the forest’s edge. Then he went to the boot of the car, took out a thick jacket, and tugged it on. “Here,” he said to Skye, lifting out another, padded jacket. “It’ll be cold soon. I really shouldn’t have brought you—it could be hours.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She took the jacket, although it was far too warm to put it on at that moment, the humid forest air already making sweat trickle down between her breasts.

  He lifted out a large backpack and opened
the flap at the top, and Skye watched as he quickly checked his items—phone, radio, map and compass, first aid kit, a rainproof jacket, a blanket, waterproof matches, pocket knife, whistle, food and drink, and lots of other items.

  After clipping the flap shut, he hefted it onto his back. “Okay.” He clicked his fingers at Mozart, who was immediately at his side, alert and excited to get started.

  Owen hesitated and looked at Skye. “Keep warm.”

  “You’ll stay in touch?”

  “Yeah, we’ll talk to the police by radio and keep them updated.”

  “Good luck.” She reached up and gave him a quick kiss. “Go and find that boy.”

  Still, he hesitated. Then, to her surprise, he put his hands behind his neck and undid the catch on his necklace, removed it, and placed it around her neck.

  She stood there, startled, as he did up the catch. “What are you doing?”

  “I want you to have it.” He stepped back and picked up the pendant, rubbed his thumb across it, then let it fall onto her breastbone.

  She held it in her fingers. “Owen, I can’t take this. Not now.”

  “I want you to have it,” he said again. “He’ll look after you.”

  Looking up into his eyes, she saw the fear there. Even though the boy was missing, Owen was more afraid of losing her.

  There was no time for a deep discussion, but she said, “I’m not going anywhere, Owen.” She opened her mouth to say more, but someone called him, and he turned and walked across to the group standing at the forest’s edge. She followed, cursing silently. She’d have to wait until he got back from the rescue.

  “Any news?” Owen asked as they approached.

  “Hey, Owen.” The police officer, who was probably the Suzi he’d spoken to at the beginning, Skye thought, smiled briefly at him. “Nope, nothing yet. We’ve done a sweep of the perimeter and either side of the track—I’ll show you on the map. We think he probably went north from the picnic site, but of course he could easily have changed direction several times.”

  “Okay.” Owen shook hands with Marty, nodding to the other members of the Search and Rescue team.

  “Owen,” the police officer said, “this is Sue and Nick, Dylan’s parents.”

  Skye had already spotted them standing to one side. They were both white-faced, and the woman was shivering in spite of the blanket around her shoulders.

  “This is Owen Hall, field director of Search and Rescue,” the officer said. “If anyone can find Dylan, it’ll be these guys.”

  “Hundred percent success rate,” Owen said, going over to them and holding out a hand. They shook it, a flicker of relief on their faces suggesting they felt they had hope now.

  He bent to smile at the young girl standing next to them, also white-faced and tearful. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him. Mozart and I are very good at finding lost people.”

  He glanced at Skye as he stood, meeting her gaze, and gave her a small smile.

  “Right. Do we have something of Dylan’s for the dogs to scent?”

  Sue nodded. “We have several bits of clothing for you.”

  The Search and Rescue members divided the items up amongst themselves and walked to the edge of the forest. They took a moment to look at the map, working out who was going where. Then Owen dropped to his haunches and let Mozart scent the boy’s T-shirt. “We’ve a bit of a walk before we get to the picnic site,” he explained to Skye, “but it’s possible the kid doubled back, so we keep a look out from the beginning.” He pushed himself up. “I’ll see you soon.

  Her heart was in her mouth. “Take care of yourself, Owen.”

  He bent his head and gave her a quick kiss, and then the group headed off.

  Fingering the St. Anthony pendant, Skye watched the huge kauri trees and luscious ferns close around them. Soon, the sounds of the forest reasserted themselves, the bird and insect calls breaking up the quietness of the early evening.

  She missed him already. Shadows were growing in the trees, and almost certainly it was her imagination, but a sense of foreboding had filled the air.

  Stay safe. She kissed the pendant and turned away.

  Chapter Thirty

  On the way to the picnic spot, the Search and Rescue volunteers found no sign of Dylan, even though they spread out through the trees as they walked, occasionally refreshing their dogs with the boy’s scent. Owen’s heart sank. That would have been too easy. Dylan must have wandered deeper into the woods where the tracks were less well-kept and the undergrowth thicker. The forest was about six miles long and three miles wide, and backed onto the Omahuta Forest. God knew how far the boy had got if he’d just kept on walking. Hopefully, he’d had enough sense to stay put somewhere and wait it out, but of course he was only five years old so common sense wouldn’t be a high priority.

  When they reached the picnic spot, they searched it well, and a couple of the dogs eventually picked up the scent heading north. The volunteers split into pairs and divided up the map into sections to explore. Promising to keep in touch by radio, they parted ways and headed off deeper into the forest, fanning out as they went.

  Owen paired up with Theo, and the two of them refreshed the scent for their dogs and then started walking, about ten feet apart, keeping each other in sight at all times. Owen checked his watch—it was nearly seven. They had under two hours of daylight left, and because the twilight period this far north was always very short, it would probably be completely dark by nine.

  The temperature was starting to drop, too, especially as the undergrowth grew denser, the trees closing overhead and frequently shutting out the sunlight. Owen thought briefly about Skye and hoped she’d put the padded jacket on. He shouldn’t have brought her—why had he done that? Normally, he would never have made such a stupid decision. But at that moment, when she’d looked up at him and begged to go, like a fool, he’d been unable to say no.

  Don’t think about Skye, he berated himself. He had to focus fully on the search—he’d never forgive himself if he missed something.

  His radio hissed, and he answered it and listened to one of the other volunteers say that her dog had briefly picked up the scent before losing it again. Owen and Theo stopped and consulted the map, noting where the volunteer had been looking.

  “The boy could have passed along here,” Theo said, pointing to the easternmost edge of the area they were searching.

  “Yep. Let’s head a little east.” Adjusting their angle slightly, they set off again.

  They called the boy’s name every now and again, hearing the other members of Search and Rescue do the same in the distance like an echo across the forest. The dogs barked occasionally too—surely, the lad must be able to hear them? The only issue might be if Dylan was injured. Owen pushed that thought aside. It was pointless to worry about something that might not happen.

  In spite of his admonition not to think about her, as his gaze searched the ground looking for broken twigs or flatten branches, his thoughts strayed again to Skye. Although he wished she’d stayed at the wedding, the thought that she’d wanted to come with him warmed him right through. He knew he mustn’t pin all his hopes on that, though. It didn’t mean she was going to stay, or that she would keep the baby. How long would it be before she made up her mind? He hoped she wouldn’t leave him hanging on for weeks—that wouldn’t be good for his blood pressure or herself, if she eventually decided not to keep it.

  Again, he guided his thoughts away from that notion. Focus, Owen. There would be time to talk things over with her later. For now, he had to concentrate on the boy.

  “How far do you think he could have gone?” Theo called out the question from a few feet away.

  “I wouldn’t have thought more than a mile or two.” He remembered back to when Sammy had gone missing. She’d been found less than a mile from the picnic site. “I hope he’s found a place to sit and wait. If he hears us or the dogs, he’ll call out.”

  Thinking of Sammy brought back all the old feelings of
frustration and fear, and he stopped for a moment to get his breath. They’d been walking fast, and although he was fit and strong, his heart rate was up and his mouth was dry. He extracted the water bottle from the net pocket on the side of his backpack and drank a few mouthfuls, making sure Theo did the same. Then he took Mozart’s bottle out too. Mozart had perfected the art of drinking the water as it squirted out, dismissing the need for a bowl, and his long tongue lapped up the drops.

  Refreshing the scent for the dogs, they set off, the radio crackling every now and again with groups reporting in, but there were no further alerts.

  After fifteen minutes, Owen called a halt again and they examined the map. “One of us should have picked up something by now,” he said to Theo. They were three miles deep into the forest, a good walk from the picnic spot, half an hour from the last scent. He pressed the button on the radio. “I think we need to turn back, guys. We’d have picked up something by now if he’d gone this far. Let’s head back to the last known alert and see if we can’t pick up something on the way.”

  He tucked the radio back into his pocket and looked up through the branches. The sun had disappeared below the top of the trees, flooding the sky with oranges and purples like a huge bruise. A flitter of panic stole through him. I’ll look all night if I have to, he thought fiercely. He would not return to the parents and the little sister to say he couldn’t find the boy. The memory of those hours of not knowing would never fully disappear from his mind.

  When he finally saw the broken twig, it was so low down that he almost missed it. Mozart alerted at the same time, however, barking excitedly and snuffling around the trunk of the huge kauri tree, and Owen called out to Theo, who came rushing over with his golden Lab, Honey.

  “Here,” Owen said, suddenly breathless as he pointed to the snapped twig at thigh height.

  “Could just be a wild pig,” Theo said, looking around for dung or any other signs of an animal in the vicinity.

  Owen watched Mozart bounding about and knew it was no pig. He took the boy’s T-shirt out of his pocket and held it up, first to Mozart, then to Honey. Both dogs buried their noses in it, then immediately alerted as they sniffed around the tree and east into the undergrowth.