by Darcy Daniel
He had the sinking feeling that if he told her he knew what was going on, it would ruin everything. How could he risk losing something he’d just found? He wanted her in his life. In fact, he found it almost impossible to imagine living without her.
As he searched her eyes, he wondered if she felt exactly the same way. What if she was just as afraid to tell him the truth because she didn’t want to ruin what they had either? From the way she was looking at him, the odds that she was struggling with the same problem were a distinct possibility.
Then he remembered one vital, but unwanted fact. There was a reason she was here. And that was to research her dream role. A dream he now understood. A dream that would take her back where she came from. Even though he wanted her to fulfill that dream with every fiber of his being, he knew it would take her away from him, where he couldn’t follow.
The thought of losing her crashed through him with such pain, she faded away before his eyes, and the darkness swallowed him again.
“Hey,” she said softly.
He gulped over the lump in his throat. “Hey.”
When she shifted on the bed and moved closer, he shot up, swung his feet to the floor and stood. “Go back to sleep. No work today.”
Grabbing a fresh set of clothes, he hurried into the bathroom, sat on the edge of the bathtub and tried to get his mind straight.
He didn’t want to lose her. Yet losing her seemed inevitable. She had ambition, a career, another life to return to in the big bad city. What could she possibly find here that would change any of that? Nothing, that’s what.
Angry with himself for letting her into his heart when he should have known better, he yanked his clothes on and marched to the kitchen.
He pulled the bag of dog food from the cupboard and scooped some into Meg’s bowl. As he put it away again, he tilted his head and listened.
“Meg?” She was usually right by his side, ready to dig in. “Meg?” he called again. Nothing.
Figuring she must have gone outside, he made his way to the veranda and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Meg! Come on, girl!”
He waited, expecting to hear her bound up the steps, but it didn’t happen.
Damn it, where was she?
* * *
Anthea buried her face in Cole’s pillow and inhaled. Why did he have to smell so good? She rolled onto her back and stretched, feeling relaxed and rested. She’d never been a great sleeper, but last night, in Cole’s arms, she’d slept deeper than she had since she’d been a kid.
“Meg! Come on!” Cole yelled from outside.
She sat up, frowning.
“Meg! Meg!”
She heard a touch of panic in his voice. Scooting out of bed, she grabbed her robe and hurried through the house.
“Meg!”
Cole stood in the driveway, not too far from the house, his body tense, worry on his face.
Slipping into the oversized gumboots, Anthea rushed down the steps and put a hand on his arm.
“She’s missing?” she asked.
“Yeah. Last I remember, she was in her bed.”
“Has she ever disappeared before?”
He shook his head. “Never.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll find her,” she said, squeezing his arm.
He placed his hand over hers, but said nothing. His face said it all. He thought something terrible had happened to Meg.
“Meg?” she called, and as she stepped around the side of the house, she spotted her car parked behind the large storage shed where Cole kept his supplies. Maybe Meg had slipped beneath the car to keep cool. It was worth a shot.
She tramped over in the hot gumboots, then got on her hands and knees and peered under the car. Damn. Nothing there.
As she stood and rounded the car, she stopped cold. “Meg!” Between the car and the shed, the dog lay on her side, panting weakly.
Anthea raced over, dropped to her knees and took the dog’s head in her hands. “Meg?” she whispered. Meg’s eyes were mere slits and her tongue lolled from the side of her mouth.
Hearing a rustle behind her, Anthea whirled around. A Red-bellied Black snake slithered along the side of the shed in the long grass.
She gasped, reached for the scruff of Meg’s neck and dragged the dog as far away as she could.
“Cole!” she yelled. “Cole! I’ve found her!” She didn’t want to leave Meg, but knew the dog needed to get to a vet as soon as possible.
Cole’s footsteps hurried toward her as she rose. “She’s here. I think she’s been bitten by a snake.”
Cole froze, the color draining from his face.
Anthea grabbed his arm, guided him toward Meg and encouraged him to kneel. He extended his hand, touched Meg’s side and sank his fingers into her fur.
“We have to get her to the vet. I’ll get my keys.”
As fast as she could, Anthea ran to the house and burst inside. She found her purse in the spare room and bolted outside.
When she rounded the corner of the shed, Cole had Meg’s head cradled in his lap. He was talking softly to her, but Anthea couldn’t quite hear his words.
“Let’s go,” she said, as she fished her keys from her purse and opened the driver’s door. She pulled on a lever and folded the seat all the way forward. Not the best car for transporting a dog, but at least it would be a little easier to maneuver Meg in and out with the damaged roof down.
As she spun around, Cole rose to his knees, pulled Meg into his arms and stood. Anthea took his elbow, guided him to the open car door and awkwardly helped lay Meg on the backseat.
“Okay. Get in.” After pushing the seat into position, she looked over her shoulder to find Cole simply standing beside the car. “Cole?”
He shook his head, retreating a step. “I can’t. Just…hurry.”
She stared at him, saw the shame on his face. And the fear. No, she decided. He needed to do this.
“You get in this car right now,” she demanded.
“Just go. You don’t need me.”
“Yes, I do.”
His jaw tightened. “You’re wasting time. Get outta here.”
“I can’t lift her out of the car on my own.” Maybe some common sense would get through to him.
“The vet can.”
“What if the vet’s a woman? An old man? What then?”
“He’s not.”
That was it, she’d had enough. She advanced on him, grabbed his wrist and pulled. He tried to resist, but his worry had made him weak. As she dragged him toward the passenger door, he attempted to bat her hand away. She wasn’t having any of it. Yanking open the door with her free hand, she rounded on him.
“You listen to me, Cole Daniel. Meg is your responsibility. She needs you. Don’t you dare abandon her. Do you hear me?”
“I can’t leave—”
She forced him backward. Caught off guard, he stumbled into the lower portion of the car’s frame and flopped into the passenger seat. Before he could push himself out, she swung his legs into the footwell. In one fast motion, she locked the door and slammed it. She knew he had no idea where the lock button was located, and she was betting he wouldn’t grope around to try to find it.
Frozen, he sat there, his face a mask of stone. Fine, if he wanted to sulk, she could live with that.
In the driver’s seat, she started the engine, but soon realized she couldn’t operate the pedals while wearing gumboots. After wrenching them off, she tossed them from the car and hit the accelerator, fishtailing on the grass until the tires found the driveway, bit into the earth, and took off.
The whole way into town, Cole gripped the armrest and remained rigid. She tried to talk to him, but he refused to say a word, and the realization of what a big deal this was for him finally hit her.
So consumed with getting Meg help, she hadn’t stopped to think, even when he insisted she go alone. Cole had told her he never left the property, and she’d just dragged him away from the only place he felt secure.
She’d done it again. Thinking only of what she wanted, what she thought Cole should do, instead of putting herself in his shoes and seeing the situation from his perspective.
When she parked in front of the veterinarian clinic on the main street, she turned in her seat to check on Meg. The dog was still breathing, but her breaths looked shallow, weak. And she couldn’t ask Cole to carry Meg into the surgery.
She put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “She’s okay, Cole. But I’m going to honk the horn to get some help, okay?”
He nodded ever so slightly.
Placing her hand on the horn, she said, “Okay, here goes,” and gave the horn three blasts. People on the street stopped and stared at the sudden noise.
As she climbed from the car, a man in his forties, wearing a white coat, hurried out of the clinic.
“She’s in here,” Anthea said. “I’m pretty sure she was bitten by a snake. A Red-bellied Black.”
“Right,” the vet said. “Help me get her inside.”
Anthea followed the vet as he whisked Meg into one of the examination rooms, checked her over and gave her an antivenom shot. When he finally looked at Anthea, he gave her a reassuring smile.
“We won’t know for about an hour or so how she’ll respond, but I’m fairly confident we’ll have a good outcome. She’s lucky you managed to get her here so quickly. I’m Graham, by the way.”
She shook his hand. “Thank you, Graham,” she said without offering her name. “Meg’s very special.”
He smiled. “They all are. Anyway, you’re welcome to wait, or I can give you a call as soon as I have something to tell you.”
“No. I’ll wait.”
“Fine. Just so you know, I’ll want to keep her in overnight for observation, as a precaution.”
“Okay. And thanks again.”
Graham showed her into the waiting room and the receptionist offered to get her a cup of coffee. While she waited, she stood by the window and looked at Cole. He hadn’t moved a muscle. He seemed so lost, so alone. Even though she knew he was angry with her, he needed to know what was happening with Meg.
When she went to the car to tell him, she became aware of the strange stares people gave her as they passed by. Oh God, did they recognize her? Please, of all the times, not now. She’d been so focused on getting Meg help, the last thing on her mind was the possibility of being recognized by the locals. But the looks on their faces didn’t seem to be the starstruck recognition Anthea was so used to. Instead, some people looked shocked, others amused.
That’s when she remembered what she was wearing. Or wasn’t wearing. No shoes, for a start. The short robe she wore over her nightie only covered her legs to the knees. As she touched her hair, she encountered a tangled mess. No wonder people were staring.
On the upside, she was sure no one would recognize her in the state she was in. One of the best disguises a celebrity could wear was her regular face—none of the usual makeup or careful hairstyling. There was also the fact that for the last five years she’d been a blonde, so the public’s image of her as a brunette had long since faded away, leaving her fairly confident her true identity was safe.
On the downside, it looked like she’d just fallen out of bed, which of course she had. And there was no mistaking that she was there with Cole. She could just imagine what everyone was thinking. Even though she was sure no one knew she was Anthea Cane, she was still a scantily clad woman who’d arrived in town with a notoriously single man. She was being perceived in the exact way she didn’t want to be perceived. Worse still, she’d just let everyone know that Cole was with a woman, something he had taken great care to avoid. Damn it. Could anything else go wrong?
Hurrying over to the passenger side of her car, she said, “Cole?”
He refused to answer.
“Cole, the vet said Meg should be fine. We just have to wait a bit longer, all right?” Still nothing. “I’m going back in. Do you want to come with me?”
Finally, he gave his head the smallest shake.
She touched his shoulder, squeezed. “All right. I’ll be out as soon as I know something.”
* * *
Cole felt like he’d been waiting in the car for a week. He’d known it had been a mistake to let Anthea bring him into town, and he could have stopped her, could have made more of an effort to resist, but the problem was, she had been right.
Meg was his responsibility, and he’d been powerless to help her. He hated to think what most certainly would have happened if Anthea hadn’t been there. The shame of failing his dog was almost crippling. If he couldn’t protect Meg, how could he ever hope to protect Anthea? And isn’t that what a woman wanted in a man? Protection, safety, the knowledge that she was in capable hands if the need arose?
He shouldn’t have let those few bumbling incidents as a child scare and humiliate him, but he had, begging his grandparents not to take him into town, saying he’d been through enough, that he didn’t need people staring at him with pity, even if he couldn’t see the stares. He had also argued the fact that there was absolutely no need for him to leave the farm anyway. Over time, they had given in. Maybe they just couldn’t stand to see him in more pain after what he’d already been through.
Sitting in Anthea’s car, he felt weak for hiding away on the farm, staying where it was safe and comfortable instead of forcing himself to do the things that were difficult.
Humiliated, he hung his head. Why couldn’t his sight return now and allow him to walk right into the clinic, sit beside her and show her he wasn’t afraid?
From out of nowhere, a motorbike roared past the car. He flinched. When the rough engine faded, he listened to cars pass by, people’s shoes on the pavement, the rustle of plastic bags and a multitude of sounds he couldn’t identify. Somewhere along the street, a jackhammer started. Wasn’t this supposed to be a small, quiet town?
Agitated, he released his grip on the armrest. His hand came away stiff, the muscles in his arm aching. He pressed a button on his watch, held it to his ear.
“Ten-twenty-two a.m.,” the computerized voice told him. He guessed that she’d been in there over an hour. Maybe something had gone wrong. The thought bloomed in his mind and grew stronger with every passing second. He had to get in there. He had to know what was going on.
His fingers fumbled around the door until he found the lock-release button. The mechanism inside the door made a distinctive thunk. As his hand gripped the door handle, he hesitated. Was he crazy to try this? He couldn’t even be sure they were parked in front of the vet clinic, he could only presume.
Before thinking of any more possibilities that would lead to doubt, he pulled on the handle and pushed the door open. He swung his legs from the car and planted his feet on the ground. Unsteady, he stood and shut the door.
Taking a deep breath, he placed one hand on the car and moved forward a step. Nothing bad happened. The world didn’t crumble beneath his feet. He trailed his hand over the warm metal surface and took another step, and another. He felt a dip in the smooth steel, then another, and realized the car must have been damaged in the hailstorm.
As his fingers reached the end of the hood, he took another step. And tripped on the curb, stumbling onto the footpath. Damn. He hadn’t even thought about the curb.
“Look out!” a boy’s voice yelled.
But how could he look out? Lurching to the right, he heard a strange hiss, then something collided with him and knocked him to the ground.
Chapter Thirteen
Graham allowed Anthea into the examination room where she found Meg sitting up, looking much like her old s
elf. After giving the dog a solid pat and promising to collect her tomorrow, she thanked Graham again and returned to the waiting room to pay the receptionist.
Only no one was behind the desk. Looking around, she saw a crowd gathered outside the clinic window, and they were blocking her view of the car.
Frowning, she hurried outside.
“Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” she heard a boy say from somewhere in the crowd.
“You shouldn’t be ridin’ on the footpath, kid.” A man this time.
As Anthea stepped closer to the crowd, a few people parted to let her through. A boy of about ten wheeled his bike out, hopped on it and rode away.
Anthea took the opportunity to step into the gap, and her heart dropped. Cole sat on the ground, frozen. A man stepped forward, put a hand on his arm, but Cole recoiled.
What had she done? She hurried to Cole, knelt beside him. “It’s okay, Cole. It’s me.” She grabbed his hand and he latched on tight.
“Get me the hell outta here,” he whispered.
As she helped him to his feet and guided him to the car, she couldn’t help but hear the murmurs that rippled through the crowd. But for once in her life, she didn’t care what anyone thought of her. All she cared about was Cole.
* * *
All the way home, Cole remained silent beside her. Anthea felt responsible for ruining the connection and the trust that had grown between them so quickly over the last few weeks.
She scoffed at herself. Connection, yes. But trust? How could she build trust with someone she’d lied to right from the start? She wanted to tell him the truth, but what she wanted more was to know if she might have a future with him. And even that thought seemed ridiculous. How could she find out unless he knew her true identity? That was the big fear. What if telling him the truth killed whatever feelings he’d developed? Because she had no idea if his feelings were for her, or for Anne Sugar.