Red Sand Sunrise

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Red Sand Sunrise Page 7

by Fiona McArthur


  Sienna glanced at the woman beside her and saw the genuine concern. She remembered suddenly that this woman was her half-sister. Despite all the kicking and screaming she’d mentally indulged in, half of the same blood ran in their veins. It was a bizarre thought.

  ‘Yes. Both fine. A true knot in the cord caused the baby’s heart to slow. A good call was made at the end, before it pulled tighter during birth. Could have been nasty.’

  Callie shook her head. ‘Terrifying.’

  ‘For the mother, of course. Do you have children, Callie?’

  ‘No. Too old now.’

  Sienna had to laugh. ‘Half of my clients are over forty. Though, much to my sister’s dismay, statistically they do have more caesareans.’

  The door from the pub opened and a tall, well-dressed older woman strode across the grass towards them.

  Sienna saw Callie close her eyes and straighten her shoulders as if preparing for battle. Sienna glanced at her watch and gathered her bag. They’d have to go in the next few minutes.

  Callie stood up. ‘Blanche. How nice to see you. You’ve met Eve.’ Eve lifted her hand but didn’t leave Sylvia’s side.

  ‘And this is Sienna, Eve’s sister. They’re catching the 7.30 from Longreach.’

  ‘Ah ha.’ Blanche looked very pleased with herself, though after glancing at her own watch, not so pleased with the limited time. ‘You’re the obstetrician?’

  ‘I am.’ Who was this odd woman? Sienna returned the once-over and stood up herself. They were almost equal in height.

  ‘I’m Blanche McKay. I’m funding the new antenatal clinic.’

  ‘Really. How nice.’ As the words left her mouth she caught the look on Callie’s face as she rolled her eyes. Eve stopped fussing and came to stand beside her.

  ‘You could help me.’

  ‘But unfortunately not today.’ Sienna reached into her purse and removed a business card. ‘You could ring my secretary to arrange a time and we can chat on the phone.’ Sienna glanced at Eve. ‘You ready? I really can’t miss that plane.’

  NINE

  Five days after the reading of the will, Bennet came again. Callie opened the door, and this time she was the one who didn’t return the smile. She’d given herself a stern talking-to after their last meeting.

  ‘Mum’s in the kitchen. She’ll be pleased to see you.’ She didn’t say, I’m not so sure whether I am, but it was probably on her face.

  He didn’t move. Just waited until she looked to see what the delay was. ‘How are you today, Callie?’

  Callie met his blue eyes blandly and fought the urge to lose herself in them. She looked away with a vague smile. ‘Oh, you know. Good.’

  ‘I’m sorry I was a pain the other day. You didn’t need my baggage. It was cruel of me.’

  ‘Like kicking a dog when it’s down?’ Callie put her hand over her mouth. Where had that come from?

  He winced before giving a wry smile. ‘I see you’re feeling stronger.’

  ‘Sorry. How are you, Bennet?’ What a silly conversation for two people who had grown up together.

  ‘Tired today.’ He shrugged and rotated his strong neck as if the stiffness there bothered him. Callie tried not to look. ‘Adam was up with nightmares last night.’

  A small child who had lost his mother. All distance forgotten, Callie leaned impulsively towards him and plucked at his sleeve.

  ‘Come in, you poor thing. And poor little Adam. Does it happen often?’

  ‘Less since we moved to Delta’s.’ Bennet led the way as she shooed him in.

  ‘Go right through into the lounge. Mum’s got her feet up.’

  Sylvia lifted her cheek for Bennet to kiss and he bestowed on her a smile that Callie wouldn’t have minded for herself. But, tough. Get over it.

  The afternoon passed pleasantly, a little nostalgically, as memories spun around them like the willy-willies outside while they pored over his plans. Sometimes she could guess what he was going to say before he said it, and sometimes he would smile at her when she used her favourite exclamation of ‘Whoa’. As if he remembered all the times she’d said it, years before.

  Schematically, they shifted a few walls and windows in the new medical centre, but the undercurrent they both knew was there – the brush of her shoulder against his, their fingers touching as they pointed out the same idea on the screen of his tablet – was way warmer than a married woman and recent widower should be.

  ‘Callie?’

  They turned together, and Sylvia smiled with delight at something Callie couldn’t see.

  ‘I’m tired. I might close my eyes for half an hour.’

  ‘No problem. We’ll go for a walk.’ She’d be glad to stretch, create some space before the preliminary plans were emailed to Blanche.

  ‘If it’s not too much bother, could you check the pump down at the creek? Sometimes it doesn’t work properly after a long dry spell.’

  ‘No problem at all,’ Bennet said.

  *

  As they walked down to the creek Callie could feel the years peeling back like layers of skin – or clothes. Now where had that thought come from? She ducked her head to hide her face.

  It was almost as if she were sixteen again and discovering the incredible fact that hunky Bennet Kearney was unmistakably attracted to her, dorky Callie Wilson. Bennet had always made her feel special. Today there was a vibe between them that had started with warmth and friendship and drifted towards a tingling awareness of the other that she hadn’t experienced for years.

  She bent to slide carefully through the fence, and of course Bennet held the wires apart with his hand and foot. As she eased between the two barbed strands, she wondered how many hundreds of times he’d done that for her over the years. It seemed she was out of practice because a rusty barb caught her shirt and she froze.

  ‘Wait.’

  She felt the release as Bennet freed it and then her hand was in his as he helped her straighten up. His strong fingers were so warm as they curled around hers and it was crazy, the surge of protection she felt from just that clasp of his hand. She tried not to think about how this could have been an everyday occurrence if she’d come back here after uni and married Bennet, instead of Kurt. What a useless, stupid thought.

  His fingers loosened, dropped away as they should, and a few steps later Callie and Bennet skidded down into the hollow that held the little pump house and, incidentally, shielded them from the rest of the world.

  On the eroded bank she stumbled over a river gum root and his hand shot out to steady her, but the motion continued and before she knew it he’d swung her around and she was hard against his chest.

  Instinctively her eyes shut for a second and then opened as she breathed in deeply. He smelled so good. It felt like she belonged there, snuggled up against his chest, protected from the pain and distress of the outside world. She stared up into the dear face and the words came out in a whisper, more to herself than to him.

  ‘Maybe I should have trusted you all those years ago.’

  ‘We’ll never know.’ His voice had regained that bitter little twist that was new to her. It reminded her that this wasn’t a fairytale, it was real life.

  ‘The way I feel at this moment . . . now’s not a good time to trust me.’

  She felt the jump of insight in her belly. Unfamiliar, and yet wonderfully enticing. In a world where bad things were piling on top of each other, all she knew was that Bennet felt wonderful.

  ‘You feel good.’ She buried her nose in his chest. His bulk was so different to Kurt’s fine-boned athleticism. Bennet’s chest was much more reliable. Bennet was solid. Dependable. Gorgeous. Her soul cried out that Bennet thought her a desirable woman, instead of the thoroughly disposable one her husband had.

  She buried deeper. ‘You smell good too.’ Like fresh soap, thankfully unadorned by some flash aftershave. She could feel his warm breath on her hair. Hear his intake of breath.

  ‘Stop it, Callie.’ He tried to steer her away
from him and she could feel the reluctance in his hands. Fighting with himself, and with her.

  She lifted her head out from his chest and stared up into his face. The strong bones of his jaw stood out in sharp relief. ‘Why? Nobody can see us. We’re both unattached. We care about each other and we both need comfort.’

  ‘I think we’d better —’ he looked down at her and the intensity faded from his eyes ‘— check the pump.’ He moved her away from him.

  Take that, forward woman, she admonished herself silently and hoped he couldn’t see the red in her cheeks. How could sensible, professional Dr Callie Piper feel as ridiculously unsure of herself as she did at this moment?

  She wanted to grab his hand back and make him look at her –look and then do more. Just how much more was she imagining? Instead she meekly followed him down to the pump house and helped him lift off the cover so they could check it.

  There was no accidental hand brushing on either side, and when they went back up to the house he was careful not to get too close.

  ‘Bennet’s here, Callie.’ Sylvia’s soft voice carried through the bathroom door and Callie glanced in the mirror. She’d found herself doing that a lot whenever Bennet’s name was mentioned over the past three days.

  She hadn’t done it when Kurt phoned the day before to say he’d had the removalist pack her belongings. Funny how the only thing she’d felt then had been relief that she didn’t have to go back and do it herself. Every day that load felt lighter and she wondered if the surge of attraction she felt for Bennet was the cause.

  ‘Okay. I’ll be out in a minute, Mum.’ Her hands tightened on the edges of the sink. There really was something particularly seductive about a man who could build stuff with his hands. She grinned at the woman in the mirror. Would she like to romp around in the wood shavings with Bennet? Her cheeks heated and she turned away. What a goose she was.

  Her thoughts flew to the incident by the creek. He had said she couldn’t trust him. She’d rolled those words over in her mind so many times since then and decided it meant he was attracted to her but didn’t want to be. Weren’t such complications the last thing she needed with so much else going on? And she didn’t want Bennet to feel disloyal to his dead wife because of her. Or maybe she did?

  Then there was the fact she was still married, even though in her head she had, far too easily, closed that door. Maybe instead of blaming Kurt she should be thanking him for jerking her out of wasting her life. Had he been getting half a wife for years?

  She glanced in the mirror again and chewed her lip. Hiding in the bathroom wasn’t solving anything. She pulled a face and then resumed the facade of the sensible Dr Callie Piper.

  Bennet was standing near the table. Sylvia hovered beside him, holding a cup and saucer; apparently Bennet had refused tea.

  ‘Here you are.’ Her mother glanced at Callie with a smile when she entered the room, then put the cup down on the table and subsided into a chair as if suddenly tired.

  ‘Morning, Bennet.’ Callie reassured herself her mum was okay before she turned to Bennet. His shirt was done up to the second-top button. She hadn’t noticed that before and a wickedly delicious thought twirled in her brain: was he buttoning up against his attraction to her? Or was he just chilly?

  ‘Morning, Callie.’

  ‘Is it cold out?’

  His fingers came up to self-consciously loosen his neck button.

  ‘Not that I noticed.’ His cheeks tinged pink and Callie didn’t know whether to be deliriously happy or embarrassed because her mother was present.

  ‘Something wrong?’

  ‘No. Just came to say goodbye. Probably won’t be back for a week. The planning’s done and we need to wait for the orders of materials to come in. I’ve things to do in Longreach.’

  ‘Oh. Of course.’ Her chance was lost. She looked at her mother and then back at Bennet again. He almost vibrated with intensity. ‘Well, you’ve certainly done an amazing job here.’

  ‘Thanks. Your input was good.’ He shifted his solid stance. ‘I’ve enjoyed discussing it with you.’ Lifted his chin. ‘Wondered if I could speak to you for a minute outside?’

  Sylvia stood up. ‘If you go for a walk would you check the pump again, please? It worked last night but stopped this morning so my garden is gasping.’ She waved them away. ‘I’m going to have a lie-down.’

  It was Callie’s turn to blush. Not subtle, Mother. Just what was her mother thinking? Hopefully not the same thing she was: Bennet down by the river. The two of them. Just the frogs and soft red sand.

  ‘I’ll do it after Bennet goes, Mum.’

  ‘No.’ Bennet’s voice startled them all. ‘I don’t like the idea of you down there on your own. Could be snakes. We can do it now.’ He turned and waited for her to precede him out the door.

  ‘So I can’t handle snakes?’

  ‘You don’t handle snakes, Callie.’

  ‘Ha ha. As if I didn’t know that, Mr Smarty Pants.’ She looked at him sideways as they went down the steps. ‘What did you want to talk about, Bennet?’

  ‘It can wait.’ They went across the yard to the back fence. He stepped over it.

  ‘For what?’

  But he didn’t answer, just held the fence for her. She was getting nervous. It wasn’t a bad feeling. But she definitely had butterflies. At forty years old. Crikey.

  ‘We should really put a gate in here,’ she said.

  He reached out and took her hand to help her stand as she came through the wire unencumbered. He kept her fingers in his and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm.

  ‘Why? Who needs a gate? I like it this way.’

  She looked down at his big hands, work-worn and capable. She resisted the urge to look back at the house to make sure they were out of view. She knew they were. ‘What did you want to talk about?’ she asked again.

  ‘Everything. Nothing.’ He shrugged. Laughed at himself. At her with less humour. ‘It wasn’t talking I wanted to do.’

  I’m hearing you, she whispered silently. ‘So, what did you want to do?’

  ‘Kiss. You.’ He was a straightforward man. ‘Feel your face under my fingers.’ His grip tightened a little and she leaned into him. ‘And you look so beautiful, Callie. More beautiful every time I see you.’

  She thought of her husband, who had made a baby with another woman and was leaving her.

  ‘I don’t feel beautiful.’

  His hand trailed over her cheek, soft as a drifting feather from one of the black kites circling overhead, a caress and an expression of wonder.

  ‘I assure you. You do feel beautiful.’

  Damn, she wished that Bennet wasn’t so honourable because she thought she just might love the man at this moment. Nothing would happen. And she’d go home frustrated and angry with herself for not making it happen.

  Except something did happen. Bennet let go of her arms and cupped her chin in one strong hand, tilting her face up to his.

  ‘You should never have left me.’ And then, with an unmistakable thread of distant pain, he kissed her, and thankfully he didn’t stop.

  *

  Callie lay in bed that night and tried to understand what had happened. She’d never been so foolish or irresponsible, or as impulsive as she and Bennet had been today.

  She was mad!

  They both were!

  Making love down at the creek like a pair of teenagers. They were lucky they hadn’t been bitten by ants, let alone been caught by someone. She giggled then sobered. She could just imagine that: Dr Callie Piper spotted naked under the gum trees. Now there was some gossip that could fly around.

  Then she sighed. Bennet had regretted it as soon as it was over. He’d tried to hide it but she could see his sudden introspection, the weight of guilt. It’d been less than a year and he’d betrayed his dead wife. She didn’t like that he felt that way, but she could certainly understand it, and sympathise. It was different when your wife had died, different to when your husband had
just decided he didn’t love or fancy you any more.

  He’d dressed quickly afterwards. She’d been too stunned – or was that dreamy? – to do anything but watch. Truth be told, she’d been turned on all over again just watching him button his shirt over his impressive chest. She had to bite her lip to stop her mouth from leading her into more trouble; she could see that Bennet had issues.

  Oh, why couldn’t anything be simple? But that wasn’t her life. Of course not.

  He’d reached a strong hand down to help her up and she’d found herself standing with no effort. She’d been hoping for another kiss but he picked up and brushed off her clothes and handed them to her one at a time, as if she wouldn’t put them on if he didn’t keep passing them over.

  He didn’t meet her eyes. ‘I’ll just check that pump for your mum while you finish . . .’ He gestured with his hand and her heart squeezed at the look of anguish she glimpsed in his eyes.

  She sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Bennet.’

  ‘I’m sorry too.’ He looked at her, narrowed his eyes against the cloudless blue sky. ‘Not because you aren’t beautiful – but because you don’t deserve my baggage.’

  ‘That bad, huh?’ She spoke softly to his retreating back but she knew it hadn’t been bad. Far from it. And she guessed that had made him feel even worse.

  Well, dammit, she wasn’t going to regret the absolute magic of lying in Bennet’s arms, especially if it was never going to happen again.

  TEN

  It felt bizarrely like coming home as Eve drove around the back of the pub eleven weeks after she’d first visited. She pulled up in the yard of Sylvia’s old Queenslander, which was silhouetted against the sky. The wide verandahs looked blessedly shady under bullnose iron, while strands of blooming crimson bougainvillea entwined around the wooden pylons in a flamboyant display she hadn’t expected.

  She saw Callie wave from the verandah, then fly down the steps to greet her. ‘Welcome back!’

  ‘Hi there, sister.’ Eve climbed out of the car slowly and stretched her shoulders before she hugged her. It was so good to see Callie. She looked again. There was something different about her that Eve couldn’t pick.

 

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