by Zana Bell
“I’ve got you the flights. We’ve an hour before we need to leave for the airport. You’ll fly to Auckland and from there straight on to L.A., where you pick up the next connection.”
She nodded, unable to look at him. “Thanks.”
“Sass?” She kept her head down. He stepped closer, then hesitated. “I’m so sorry. I’ve never lost it like that in my life. I was way out of line. I’m appalled at myself. Did I—I hope I didn’t hurt you?”
She shook her head. “No, you didn’t hurt me.” She burst into tears. He pulled her into his arms and she sobbed into his chest, feeling as if she was in both a dream and a nightmare.
Jake stroked her back, dropping kisses on the top of her head. Then his arms tightened as though he didn’t want to let her go.
“I want to sleep with you,” she whispered. “Just one more time.”
He loosened his hold so he could lean back and look into her eyes, his expression troubled. “Are you sure? After what I—what we—?”
More than anything else she wanted sex with Jake one last time. She wanted to make peace with him, wanted this time to create a memory she could treasure. Most of all, it would help her forget that in a few hours, she would never see him again. Sass rose on tiptoe and kissed his mouth. “Yes,” she whispered, “I’m sure.”
So he undressed her a second time that day, but this time very gently. At the last moment he pulled the pins out of her hair and her bun came down. He gave a grunt of satisfaction that made her giggle in a watery way. Then they lay down to a very different sort of lovemaking—tender and infinitely sad. And even though it was different, once again Jake touched that part deep inside her. This time it was with love and a strange sense of completion that she abandoned herself to the long, sliding slope of ecstasy.
There wasn’t much time left. She lay curled up in his arms, tracing circles on his chest. His hand stroked her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“It’s my job. But I still believe I’ve made the right recommendation.”
He sighed. “I know you do.”
His voice was very, very sad.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ON TUESDAY
the following week, Rob phoned Jake. “The report has just been e-mailed through. Come over and we’ll read it together.” Jake drove into Whangarimu with the strange calm that had settled over him since he’d watched Sass’s plane disappear. The sun still shone, the waves were good, the boys fooled around as much as ever, but Jake was on autopilot. He put on a good act, though, and no one would have guessed he didn’t taste the food he ate, didn’t hear the movies he watched with the boys.
Rob met him at the door. “Come on in. I’ve printed out copies for us both.”
He led the way into his office, where the two reports sat tidily on the desk.
“Any accompanying message?” Jake’s tone was neutral as he picked one up and took a seat.
Rob shook his head. “The e-mail had a ‘Hope you will look upon this proposal favorably’ letter signed by that bastard Branston. I’d assumed he’s taken over while Sass is with her mum, but I’ve just received a text from her.”
Jake sat forward too quickly. “What did it say?”
“That’s the weird thing. It’s only a Web site.”
“What the hell?”
“I know, but first things first. We’ll read the report, then check out the site.”
“Okay.”
Jake tried to focus, but the words seemed to jump on the page. He could understand them, all right, but couldn’t absorb them. It was as though this calm of his had robbed him not only of every emotion, but every coherent thought, too. He skimmed through the document, then tossed it back on the desk before prowling over to the window, where he propped his shoulder on the wall and looked out over Moana’s riotous flower beds. It was so quiet he could hear the clock ticking. After what seemed an eternity he heard Rob lean back in his chair with a sigh.
“Well, what do you think?” Jake didn’t turn around.
“To be honest, it’s a lot better than I was expecting.”
Jake jerked himself off the wall. “It’s a resort, for crissakes.” He went back to his chair and flung himself down, legs extended.
“An eco-resort,” his brother countered. “A different proposition altogether. A different clientele. It’ll attract those who genuinely care about the environment. It’ll also be a smaller operation, far less intrusive.”
“You can dress it up any way you like, a resort is still a resort.”
Rob strummed the table with his fingers as he regarded his brother. “Yeah, got that. What we need now, Jake, is to focus on what to do next, and I could do with your help. Jacob’s teething, so I’ve hardly slept and can’t deal with your sulks right this moment.”
Jake was suddenly aware of the dark rings under his brother’s eyes, the unusual pallor of his skin.
“You look like shit.”
Humor lit Rob’s eyes. “Ditto, brother. What’s your excuse?”
But Jake hardly knew where to begin. There was a short silence, then Rob said, “Come on, let’s have a look at this Web site of Sass’s.”
“It’ll be more mumbo jumbo about how great eco-resorts are,” Jake muttered, but he pulled his chair around to Rob’s side of the desk to look at the computer.
It was the site for a land-watch interest group in the States that uncovered unscrupulous business practices by major corporations. It had in its sights one particular development company that had been engaged in a running battle with a Native American group over a particular piece of land, and there were links to numerous articles about it.
The land in question was a sacred site, the scene of one of the bloodiest battles between the English forces and the Native Americans, and there had been vigorous opposition to a proposed subdivision. The campaign had been run along similar lines as the fairy tern protests—petitions, articles, a march. Yet despite all the indignation and fury, the proposed housing estate surged ahead. Then somehow Sixty Minutes got hold of the story and the whole campaign swung around.
Eminent academics called on the authorities to preserve places of historical significance. Native Americans demanded that once, just once, they deserved to be heard. This was followed by interviews with locals saying they could never feel comfortable living on the graves of massacred people. In the end the company backed down, issued an unreserved apology and gifted the land back to the people. A company spokesman was quoted on the importance of preserving sites significant to indigenous peoples.
After they’d scrolled down to the final article, the brothers sat back and stared at each other.
“What the hell’s she playing at?” Jake asked. While he’d been reading the article, curiosity had flicked the switch and his brain had finally come back online. For the first time since Sass’s departure he felt wired and alert.
“I don’t know,” said Rob. “It wasn’t Sass’s company in the limelight.” He scratched his neck. “Is it linked to the fairy terns, d’you think?”
“I doubt it. Sass said that seven birds couldn’t make the difference.”
Anger burned in Jake’s belly. Blessed anger. It was so good to feel again. He clutched at it and tried to remember how resentment felt, too. Funnily enough, neither one was that strong anymore.
“She does build in protection for them, however,” Rob pointed out. “First of all, the type of people who’ll come to an eco-resort will respect the birds. Also by guaranteeing part of the profits would go into trying to save them, set up breeding programs, etc.”
“Yeah, whatever. That still doesn’t explain this.” Jake pointed to the computer. “We’re missing something.”
“What?”
“I have no idea.”
For a few minutes they just sat there. Then Jake snapped his fingers as he sat up straight. “The pā! A significant landmark of the indigenous people.”
“She doesn’t kno
w anything about it, does she?”
“She spotted it the first day. Asked me questions. Man, she is good.” Despite everything, Jake couldn’t help feeling admiration. “She kept her cards so close to her chest, I never guessed a thing. Even took her up there, told her the myth, some of the history. And all the time she just looked mildly interested, when she knew—she knew—it was a potential bomb. Having seen one company lose, she knew hers could, too.” He sat back, shaking his head. “What a devious opponent.”
“You sound proud of her.”
Jake grinned. “I am. Crazy, eh?”
Rob narrowed his eyes. “Moana was right, then. There were sparks between you.”
This sobered Jake. He dropped his eyes and muttered, “Yeah, there were. Didn’t end well, though.”
“Because you thought she was taking us for a ride?”
“Yeah. I assumed her report was a personal attack—go against my campaign, go against me.” He smiled grimly. “She said I’d confuse business with us and I did.”
“So you lost it over the report?”
Jake raised his eyes to meet his brother’s sympathetic but still judicial gaze. “Yeah.” He sighed. “What a stuff-up.”
“Except that we’ve won,” Rob pointed out. “You know the Māori department at Auckland University has been looking for money to excavate this site for years. Leak this to the press, get our own Sixty Minutes crew involved and we’ll have an international incident in no time. You can just see the headlines—Bullying Americans Steal Heritage from Indigenous People.”
“The resort she proposes isn’t anywhere near the pā,” Jake felt bound to mention.
“Doesn’t matter. We stir up enough dust, enough emotion, no one’s going to check the facts too carefully.” Rob looked at Jake. “What’s the problem, Jake? She’s just handed us the silver bullet. Thanks to Sass, we’re going to win.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SASS PUT THE TWO
polystyrene cups on the stand before sitting down beside her mother’s hospital bed. She was pleased to note there was more color in Mom’s cheeks today and that her sleep seemed peaceful. They had had a worrying week as their mother warred not only with the pneumonia, but alcohol withdrawal, too. A few days ago she’d turned a corner, in large part, the doctors said, to the care and support Sass and Adam were giving her. Glancing across the bed, Sass saw her gorgeous young brother contorted on the hospital chair, gently snoring. She marveled that he could sleep in such a position, but it proved how exhausted he was. He was working construction at the moment, often pulling double shifts to help cover the added expenses. Sass had told him not to be ridiculous, she had money, but when she saw Adam’s dark face flush, she could have bitten her tongue out.
“I want to do this for Mom. Okay by you, hotshot?”
She’d let the sarcasm ride. “Yeah, of course. I’m sorry, not thinking straight. It’ll be great to go shares.”
It was funny how this crisis had pulled the family together after all these years. Even Cole was doing his bit, writing letters and sending drawings of life in prison. Sass had forgotten how he’d always drawn as a kid. The sketches could have been grim, but Cole had a way of capturing the human moments: men playing cards, a guard and a prisoner sharing a joke. The one of a huge, tattooed lifer holding bread out to a bird was pinned up on the wall. It made Mom smile when she looked at it.
A trolley rumbled past the door and Adam stirred, his eyes flickering open. From the time he’d been born, he’d had the most beautiful eyes—black, so deep you could lose yourself in them, and eyelashes that were the envy of his big sister. He smiled, his lean face lighting up.
“Hey, Sass.” With a groan he uncoiled and ran a hand through his midnight hair, thick, dead straight and floppy in a way that even a sister could see was madly sexy. No wonder their mother was getting excellent treatment from all the nurses.
He stretched his arms over his head, groaning again. “God, that feels good.”
“Here.” Sass handed him one of the cups.
“Thanks.” His voice was still groggy and in a few gulps, he dispensed with the coffee.
“How can you drink that fast? Especially when it’s so disgusting.”
He laughed shortly. “Life on the road means you take what you are given with no complaints.” He gestured to the bed with his chin. “She slept easy all night, far as I can tell.”
Sass smiled and leaned forward to stroke their mom’s hair. “She’s looking so much better.”
As though in response to that feather touch, Alicia’s eyes drifted open. Seeing both children there, she smiled and reached out a hand, which Sass immediately took.
“Hey, there, Mom. Had a good sleep?”
“Why, very nice, thank you.”
Sass smiled. Jake had teased her about her accent, but he’d be completely bowled over by her mother’s way of speaking—like something right out of a 1930s movie. Then, as it always did when she thought of Jake—which was often—a wave of pain swept over her. But she tried to push it away.
She had so much to be grateful for in regaining her family like this, it seemed downright churlish to feel like a piece was still missing. Strangely, she didn’t feel at all bad about having quit her job.
Alicia’s eyes fell on her youngest child. “Adam Walker, you look like a cat dragged you backward through the bushes. You need to get home to your bed, young man.”
He laughed as he rose and stretched again, his long arms almost knocking the overhead light.
“Watch out, klutz,” Sass said automatically.
“Yeah, yeah,” Adam retorted. “You just watch who you callin’ klutz, lady, or you’ll be out on the street on your ass.”
“Threat or promise?”
“Children, children.” But Alicia was smiling.
“I gotta go, Mom, and have a shower before work. See you tonight.” Adam kissed her, then flicked a hand at his sister as he picked up his motorcycle helmet. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“’Sa pleasure. I’ve stocked up on toilet paper and there are clean clothes on your bed.”
He grinned. “I just love having a live-in housekeeper.”
“Ha, you say that now. You moaned enough about it when I first moved in.”
“That’s because you meddled with my stuff.”
“It’s called cleaning, Adam.”
“Whatever. Catch you tonight.”
“Don’t be late, I’m cooking chicken.”
He gave her a thumbs-up and went into the corridor, where they could hear him say, “Oops, I surely do apologize for nearly running you down, Miz Nurse.”
Sass and her mother exchanged glances as they heard the responding giggles.
“That boy has more charm than any individual has any right to,” Alicia said.
“He’s incorrigible,” Sass agreed. “But I’ll say this for him, he doesn’t take advantage of it as much as he could.”
Alicia smiled. “He’s a good boy.” Then her eyes welled with tears. “They’re both good boys and I failed them so badly.”
In her weakened state, Alicia was very emotional and, having been sober for two weeks now, was thinking straighter than she had in years.
“I don’t deserve any of you.”
“Hush, Mom, don’t say that. You did your best. All we want now is for you to get better. The doctor says you should be out in just a few days. Then you can go into the clinic, where they say you’ll be treated like royalty.” She tapped the nicotine patch on her own arm. “We Walker women are going to kick our addictions together.”
Alicia reached for Sass’s hand again. Her grip was surprisingly strong for a frail woman. “Are you sure you’ve got the money for the clinic, sweetheart? I don’t want to use up your life savings.”
Sass laughed. “Mom, I’ve already told you, I worked like a slave for seven years and now I want to have fun.”
“Paying for your mother’s rehabilitation isn’t fun.”
“But it will be
,” Sass assured her, stroking her mother’s fingers, “soon as you get out. We’ll do things together and maybe persuade Adam to stick around. Cole will be out of prison next year and we’ll be a family again.”
Her mother gave her a searching look. “Sasha, don’t go making too many plans for us. After all, the boys are their own men now. Are you sure you aren’t just wanting a family of your own?”
Caught off guard, Sass laughed uncertainly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mom.”
Of course, she should have realized if anyone could tell she was hiding something, it would be her mother.
“Do you want to tell me about it, baby?”
For a second, Sass actually considered denying it all. She knew Alicia would back off if she did. But if they were ever going to be a family again, she had to be strong enough to be vulnerable.
Taking a deep breath she said, “I fell in love with the wrong guy.”
“Oh, baby, do I know how that one feels,” Alicia said. Sass pulled her chair close to the bed and rested her head on the sheets, surrendering to her mother’s stroking fingers.
“Tell me,” said Alicia, and so the story tumbled out. It sounded garbled as she told her mom about Aroha Bay with its boys and birds, about Rob and Moana and taking the drop. But when it came to talking about Jake, she faltered. She just couldn’t seem to find the right words to describe him: the way he made her madder than she’d ever been, but also the happiest, the craziest. That started her crying, and for a while she sobbed into the sheets, while Alicia continued to smooth her hair and make the same sympathetic noises she used to when Sass was a kid and hurt herself. It was wonderfully soothing, and finally Sass sat upright and blew her nose.