“Of course dear. Chance will drop it off on his rounds. You remember him, don’t you, from high school?”
“Yes, I remember.” How could she forget someone like Chance? “Well, I’m desperate for a coffee.” Damn, she probably shouldn’t have said that.
“Coffee!” Jack piped up, his voice expectant.
Millie quickly added, “But before you go, Katherine, you might be able to help our friend here. He doesn’t know his way around town yet. Perhaps …”
“How about I buy you a coffee?” Jack asked, laying on the charm.
Ah, just as she’d feared.
“If you can spare me half an hour of your time, I’d really appreciate it.”
Katherine hesitated. “I don’t think so.” Oh, very decisive. “I’ve lots to do and—”
“But if you’re having coffee anyway …” Millie began, head to one side, soft eyes blinking, looking like the sweetest fairy godmother riding a steamroller. She looked at Ted, hoping for some help. Though it was hard to see what was happening behind Ted’s moustache, judging by his crinkled eyes he was smiling, big-time. But it didn’t look as if he was going to support his wife. Wise man, Ted.
With three smiling faces gazing at Katherine in expectation, turning Jack down suddenly seemed petty.
“Well,” Katherine sighed, “I suppose so. I’m starving, haven’t had breakfast yet.” She gave the pair behind the counter a quick grin.
“Great,” Jack said. “Breakfast’s on me.”
“No thank you. I’ll pay for myself.” Damned if she was going to feel obliged to return the favour.
Outside, Jack offered her his arm. Slowly Katherine traced her gaze from his arm to his face, barely able to control her laughter.
“The footpaths are treacherous,” he said with a glint of humour.
“I grew up here. I’ve had plenty of practice negotiating slippery footpaths. Perhaps I should be helping you, you’re the one who looks … unsteady.”
“That’s why I offered you my arm,” he quipped. “The jetlag doesn’t help either.”
“Uh huh.” Katherine studied his interesting face: square jaw, curvy mouth, straight nose and bloodshot eyes. “Could be a massive hangover for all I know.”
“It’s true. I arrived in Spruce Valley last night. After a ballet performance. And just in case, I was not the snoring bloke in the fifth row; in fact, quite the opposite.”
“So it was you who sent that creative flower arrangement pinned to your business card. Thank you. I liked it so much I took it home,” she told him. “You should be impressed by that.”
His eyebrows shot up. “I am—very!” He grinned, and with a hand over his heart, he said, “I’m honoured.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, and scanned parked cars for Eric’s familiar red Beamer. He couldn’t be on foot, or she would’ve recognised his arrogant swagger. It was something Katherine could spot a mile off. The thought of it sent a cold shiver through her. She pulled the goose-down jacket closer around herself.
“Are you okay?” Jack asked.
“Yes, thank you.” She glanced up at him. “Why shouldn’t I be?” Ooh, testy, she thought.
Either he didn’t notice her defensive tone, or he was smart enough to ignore it.
“You’re a local and you shivered. That doesn’t bode well for me.”
Jack prattled on while Katherine kept looking about.
“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said,” Jack said good-naturedly. His eyes, nose and chin were pink and stiff from the cold. His brave effort at a smile failed.
“I’m sorry,” Katherine tugged her hat down around her ears. “Honestly, I didn’t mean to be rude. My mind was on something else.”
“I gathered as much,” Jack said with feeling. “I was saying your town is picture postcard perfect.”
Katherine nodded. “You won’t get an argument out of me. Look at what we’ve got—majestic mountains, ski slopes, meadows, not to mention the town itself. Why anyone would want to live anywhere else is a mystery.” She took a deep breath. Icy air hit her lungs and she coughed. Tears sprang in her eyes; she quickly blinked them away.
Jack peered at her. “Are you doing that so your eyeballs won’t freeze over?” he asked. “Should I do that as well? I reckon there should be a weather warning.” He squared his shoulders and mimicked an announcer’s voice. “Temperatures will freeze your eyeballs today. Also, men’s nostril hairs will freeze and snap off.”
Katherine laughed, and for an instant forgot all about the Eric problem.
“You can thank my friend Dave for that last observation.”
Getting her breath back, Katherine nudged Jack with her elbow. “Okay, so who’s Dave?”
“Dave Wilson, snorer in the fifth row, sports journalist and university friend, now living and working in Calgary. Loves all winter sports, and sports in general.”
“He probably knows my friend Leandra. She’s a champion skier.”
Jack shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. “I think Dave knows every woman in Calgary.”
Katherine slowed her stride. “Here we are.”
Jack opened the door and stood aside for Katherine.
The door closed behind them, and she was sure Jack sighed with pleasure.
“I enjoyed walking with you, Katherine, but when we do this again, I’m going to need more than thermals.”
When we do this again? “That’s assuming we do.” He seemed nice enough, but she wasn’t going to start anything, with anyone. Not for a while anyway.
Delicious aromas of breads and muffins, just out of the oven, and freshly brewed coffee made her mouth water. The new owner Julie had spruced the place up since last she’d been in, and replaced the tired, drab colours with rich autumn tones. Heavy drapes hung on either side of the snow-laden French windows, held back with matching tasselled ties.
“Let me take your parka,” Jack said as he slipped the jacket from her shoulders.
“Thank you.” For an instant, he was close enough for her to catch the scent of fresh, sun-dried laundry. Her mind darted to a hot beach, hot sun, hot man. No way—especially after last night and this morning.
Jack moved to the main door, placed her skates and his snowshoes under a bench, and hung her parka on a hook above.
A couple of small sofas and coffee tables stood near a large open fire blazing in a granite rock wall. Katherine chose a comfortable booth for them overlooking the courtyard.
While he was busy Katherine reluctantly took off her hat and tried to tame the wild strands that, thanks to the freezing temperatures and static electricity, threatened to take off in all directions. She combed her fingers through the tangles as she studied Jack. He pulled his gloves off and shoved them into the pockets of his sheepskin coat; his strong tanned fingers worked to undo the buttons. She had to admit he had great hands.
Being a dancer, Katherine knew the time and energy it took to keep fit. Jack was super-fit. Without his sheepskin coat, which had hidden an incredible body, his movements were easy and relaxed. Seeing strong, lean, half-naked men was a part of ballet. Jack had a larger physique, and she liked the way his muscles moved under his grey cashmere sweater. He grabbed the pom-pom on his multicoloured hat, pulled it off and hung it on a hook. She smiled when he absent-mindedly ran a hand through his messed, sun-bleached hair.
Turning, he flashed Katherine a warm, easy smile that went all the way to his eyes. Very nice, she thought. Sure, he was different, charming and amusing, but she wasn’t so easily swayed. Not even his physique would do that—oh no. Then why was her wayward mind stripping cashmere? Ah, to hell with it. She picked up the menu and studied it. All men are bastards, she said to herself, until proven otherwise.
“So,” Jack folded his long frame and sat opposite her. “You’re a Spruce Valley girl.”
“Yes, and that’s significant because?”
“I’m hoping you’ll be able to help me; I’m looking for someone. I’ve already asked
the store owners Ted and Millie. They said plenty of Johnsons but not an Ellie Johnson. Have you heard that name mentioned?”
“No, not Ellie anyway. My mother’s maiden name is Johnson, Christian name Margaret. It’s a very popular surname. It won’t be an easy search.”
Julie, the owner of the café, was wearing the universal waiter’s uniform of black pants, white shirt and short black apron. She came towards them, her high blonde ponytail swinging, her pad and pen at the ready to take their order.
“Katherine, how are you?” Julie sparkled, blue eyes glinting with interest at the stranger sitting at the table. “It’s been ages since we’ve seen you in here.”
“I’m well thanks, Julie.”
“Did you see the poster in the window? There’s a class reunion on the 12th of June. You should come … catch up with everyone from our high school days.”
“Yes, I might do that.” No way would she do that. She’d rather eat razor blades. They’d all be there, contented family men, and women with purses full of baby photos. Katherine changed the subject. “Julie, I’d like you to meet Jack Riley from Australia.”
Clutching the pad and pen to her chest, Julie extended her hand. “Hi, good to meet you, Jack. I bet it doesn’t get this cold where you come from.”
“Not even close,” Jack said, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you too, Julie.”
“You must be dying for a hot cup of something. What can I get for you both?”
Katherine checked the menu. “I was going to have pancakes, but make it eggs, bacon and toast. After that I’ll have one pancake with maple syrup and cream, and coffee—black, please.”
“And you, Jack, what’ll you have?” Julie asked, leaning in towards him, head inclined, flirting. Katherine knew Julie’s hulking fiancé would find her behaviour amusing.
“I’ll have the full breakfast as well, thank you. I need the fuel.”
“Would you like the yolks soft, but not runny; bacon crisp?” Julie asked with a toothy smile.
“Sounds perfect,” Jack nodded, smiling back.
“Don’t you just lo-ove his accent,” Julie giggled at Katherine. “Won’t be long,” she sighed, and took off with a more than usual sway to her hips.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if I get charred eggs,” Katherine laughed.
“What makes you say that?” Jack asked.
“Oh please, where have you been for the last five minutes?”
“The Julie thing—soft, but not runny, eggs?” he arched an eyebrow. “She probably knows how you like yours.”
“Nice try.” Katherine gave him a knowing smile. “You’re either clueless or—”
“I’ll call her back.” Jack raised his arm.
Katherine reached forward, pulling at his sleeve. “Don’t do that. It’s okay, I’ll take whatever comes.”
Jack shook his head and gave her a no-way look.
“Stop it! Don’t make a fuss.”
“Okay.” He relaxed and with a tilt to his head, studied her intently.
“What are you looking at?” Katherine asked, tension building. Pretty soon there’d be no room for eggs.
“I don’t know … I mean …” Baffled, he shook his head. “Christ, I don’t know, there’s something about—”
“About what? Are you a nut case? Should I be running for my life?”
“No!” he said, offended. “It’s probably jetlag.”
“Okay, but stop the intense eyeballing. Focus on someone else. Start with Ellie Johnson, and don’t leave anything out. I love a good mystery.”
“Okay, between 1978–79 my stepfather, Andrew Riley, and Ellie Johnson corresponded almost daily while he was away on assignment with Mike Smithson in Laos and Cambodia. They came across refugees trudging the trails, trying to escape the Vietnamese and later the all-out bombing from US forces. Their luck ran out when Mike stood on a landmine. He died instantly and so did their guide; Andrew was badly injured. Kind-hearted mountain villagers took him in and tended his wounds. There’s a big chunk of time that’s a blur to him.”
“Your poor dad,” Katherine sympathised. “Is he okay now or does he have ongoing health problems?”
“He’s unbelievably strong for a man his age.”
“What made him decide to start looking now?”
“Technology. It’s growing at such a rate; he reckons he’ll find her on the Internet.” Jack laughed. “We both know it’s not as simple as that. And it doesn’t help that a decade of files from ’74 to ’84 are missing.” He shrugged.
“What a mess,” Katherine said with feeling, knowing his search would be tough and probably futile.
“Andrew’s your stepfather. How did you get the name Riley?”
“I was twelve when Andrew married my mother. When I was fourteen, he asked me if he could adopt me. He’s a courageous gentle man, and I couldn’t want for a better dad. My mother …” Jack fell silent. “Never mind, I’m here to do what I can.”
Julie arrived and, with a cheery “Bon appétit”, put their steaming breakfast plates in front of them, smiled and left.
“Hey, see that?” Jack nodded toward her plate. “Your breakfast isn’t charred.”
“How about that.” Katherine smiled and unfolded her napkin. “Getting back to your search, what if this person you’re looking for doesn’t want to be found?”
“Sure, don’t think I haven’t agonised over that. I don’t want to blunder in and stomp all over Ellie’s life. All I want is for Andrew to know she’s fine, happy, or whatever.”
“A delicate task, though. Do you have photos or letters?” she asked, taking a sip of coffee.
“Andrew doesn’t remember Ellie’s extended family. In the jungle when he was sick with fever, he remembered what mattered to him, and that was Ellie.”
“How much time do you have?”
“Until I’ve exhausted all avenues. Or until the grape harvest, whichever comes first.”
“Your business card says you’re a vintner. Where in Australia is Blue Gum winery?”
“The Hunter Valley, about an hour and a half north of Sydney. Beautiful country and we make exquisite wines. Shiraz, Semillon, Merlot are a few that we produce.”
“So Andrew and your mum live there?”
“Andrew owns the vineyard. Mum died a couple of years ago from …”
“I’m sorry.” Katherine could see him swallow several times. There was something he wasn’t telling her—something painful. Katherine decided not to push. No point to it anyway. “I suppose it’s like anything a person produces. There it is on your table, and you made it.” She bit into a piece of toast.
A devilish half smile eased into his face. “Canada produces some pretty special performers. Where and when do you dance again?”
“Saturday night, right here in Spruce Valley. Then that’s it, there is no more. I’ve officially retired from ballet.”
“What!” With a look of shock, Jack fell back in his chair. After letting it sink in, he leaned slowly forward. “You can’t!”
Katherine raised her eyebrows, looked straight at him and said, “Of course I can.”
“But it was just last night, in Calgary—you were brilliant. You brought tears to a grown man’s eye.”
Katherine laughed. “I made you cry?” She shook her head. “I think Millie’s been spreading rumours.”
Amused, he wagged a finger at her. “No, I managed to control myself.”
“It couldn’t have been your friend Dave, he was asleep.”
“Yes, that’s true, but I bet you anything there was a grown man in the audience having a quiet weep because you were so …” His hands came up as if it might help him find the right words. He held his breath, his expression an agonising mixture of frustration and awe. With an outward gasp, his breath left his lungs. “Brilliant!” Scanning her face, Jack paused. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you leaving?”
“Too many injuries. You look fit, so you know what it’s like to keep your body i
n peak condition. It’s bloody hard work, and injuries make it harder.”
“I understand. But that night in Calgary …” He shook his head in wonder, “Unbelievable. You moved me … and everyone in the audience.” His hands slid across the table to cover hers, a gesture Katherine found disturbing in too many ways. She wasn’t sure whether to withdraw or enjoy the moment. His warm, strong fingers slowly caressed hers. “In the foyer, er lobby, people couldn’t stop talking about how superbly you danced.”
“Thank you, that’s lovely and I do appreciate you telling me.” Katherine slipped her fingers out from under his and downed the rest of her coffee. “People will flock to see my understudy and the new principal Bianca Katsikova. Just her name evokes excitement. And that’s enough about ballet.”
Jack’s slow, easy smile dashed Katherine’s moment of regret. Not that she regretted leaving, but more to the point, she had no choice.
Looking for Julie, she noticed her coming through the swinging doors that led to the kitchen. Julie sashayed around the tables, heading in their direction with a tray.
“Thanks,” Katherine said as Julie put their plates aside and replaced them with cream, pancakes and maple syrup. “Could we have another coffee please?”
“Coming up.” Julie moved to the counter, came back with a coffee jug and refilled their cups. She smiled and left, hips swaying.
“One last question about ballet and then I’ll shut up. Where can I buy a ticket?” Jack asked.
Oh God, she hadn’t meant for that to happen. “Try the library. Or get one at the hall on the night. You should enjoy it. Uncle Pierre’s dancers are wonderful.”
“Maybe—but I’ll be going to see you.” Jack gave her a wicked grin.
“Sure you are.” An unexpected flutter erupted in her stomach and Katherine choked out a laugh. “You can’t be making a pass at me?”
He said nothing, just looked into her eyes and gave her a lopsided grin.
“Right.” Katherine could hardly believe it as heat rose to her cheeks. “You’ve got to be kidding. You live on another continent. I’m sure you’ll be going back there just as soon as you’re done here. You need a chaperone. Andrew should have come as well.”
Finding Elizabeth Page 4