“Asked them to prepare a meal for you?”
“Gone on a date.”
“A date? Is that what this is?”
Ella laughed. “According to my kitchen staff. I gave up trying to convince them otherwise and let them think what they liked.”
For a while they sank into silence as they ate and gazed across the ocean.
Finally, Ella stood and removed her sarong. She held out a hand to Justin. “Let’s go for a swim in the tidal pool.”
He couldn’t. It was one thing to see the Pacific-style tattoos on his arm, but with all these tourists around, it was something else entirely to bare the tattoo on his back.
Had she heard right? “You don’t want to swim? But it’s so hot.”
“I’m sorry, Ella. It’s not that I don’t want to, I–I just can’t.”
“You don’t know how to swim?”
“I know how to swim, but I can’t go swimming. Not now. Not here.” Phoenix punched the sand beside him. “I hate this.”
“Hate what?” Ella fell to her knees beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Why wouldn’t he go swimming? And why hadn’t he taken off his shirt? This was the first time she’d even seen him without a jacket. But he was hiding something else under his shirt besides muscles and a great six-pack.
What is your story, Phoenix? Will you open up to me?
He shook his head. “Nothing. Maybe we should go. This was a mistake. I’m sorry.” He started to pack the food back into the basket.
“Would you feel it was less of a mistake if we went to another beach? One with less people?”
Releasing a deep sigh, he nodded. “I’d prefer a quieter spot.”
Ella flashed a smile as she closed the basket’s lid. “No worries. We’ll head down to Frankston. It’s further out of the city, so there won’t be as many people. You and I are spending the afternoon at the beach. Swimming.”
“I don’t mean to be difficult, it’s just—” He pushed to his feet and yanked on his jacket. “Never mind.”
“Just what, Phoenix?” Ella hurried to her feet.
He blew out a breath, his eyes searching hers.
Taking his hand in hers, Ella gave it a gentle squeeze. “You can trust me.”
“Can I?”
“Absolutely.”
Phoenix lifted the picnic basket and blanket. “All right. You’ll see why soon.”
CHAPTER FIVE
ELLA SWITCHED ON THE INDICATOR as she slowed her Holden. “I’ve always enjoyed Frankston. It’s apparently the cleanest beach in Australia, and has an amazing long pier. But Brighton is closer to the city and a trendy beach, so it’s busier.” She turned the steering wheel to the right.
“Are we almost there?”
Ella laughed. “We’re here.”
“It’s not that far.”
“Ah, but add on the extra distance from the coffee shop…”
“Right.”
Phoenix retrieved his jacket from the floor and climbed out of the car. He stretched up on his toes.
“The beach is just on the other side of all that shrubbery.” She moved toward the car boot. “Shall we bring out the basket again?”
“Definitely.” He grinned as Ella popped the boot. “We still have those muffins.” He grabbed the basket and their bags.
“Let me help.”
“It’s all right. I’ve got it. You lead the way.”
He walked beside Ella as they strolled a short distance down the wooden path before veering off between the shrubbery.
“You weren’t kidding about the water. It’s so blue and clear. Wow!” Phoenix glanced around as they stepped onto the almost empty beach. A few old people relaxed on deck chairs, a couple of mums built sandcastles with their preschoolers, and a few tourists who’d ventured this far out of Melbourne splashed about in the transparent water. The beach wouldn’t be this empty tomorrow when the weekend began.
“This is perfect. Thank you.” He pointed down the beach. “Could we sit over there?”
The spot was close enough to people if she got into trouble, and far enough for Phoenix to have the privacy he seemed to need. She’d said he could trust her. But could she trust him?
They repeated the process from Brighton Beach and soon were seated on the blanket munching Butterscotch Pecan muffins.
Phoenix smiled. “Coffee would go down well now.”
“It would.”
“Pity your shop is so far away.”
Ella nodded and brushed the crumbs from her mouth. Standing, she stripped down to her bathing suit. She liked the black and white vertical stripes—they made her appear even more slender than she was. After two muffins in two days, she probably needed the help. “I’m going for a swim.” The only way to get him to show her what he was afraid of was to pick up where they’d so abruptly left off back at Brighton.
She glanced back at Phoenix as she headed toward the ocean. “You joining me?”
Without waiting for his answer, she ran for the water, diving into its coolness the moment it was deep enough. She gazed out across the bay, swishing the water with her hands as she waded out further. She’d give him time to make his decision.
Ella heard a splash behind her and swirled around to find a shadow heading her way beneath the water.
Droplets sprayed in the air, some hitting her, as Phoenix broke through the surface and rose, shaking his head. Wet, his hair hung longer, darker.
“The water’s fantastic! I should’ve done this a long time ago.” Water trickled down his chest. A few days in the sun and that body would look amazing.
“Yes, you should have.” Ella laughed and splashed him.
“Oh, is that how it is?” He dove toward her to exact his revenge, and Ella caught a glimpse of a tattoo that started at his shoulders and extended down his back. But the flash of ink before he disappeared beneath the water wasn’t enough to show what it was.
Was the tattoo what he’d been hiding?
Instead of grabbing her legs and pulling her under as she’d expected, she watched him glide past, his strokes slow, smooth, graceful—like a phoenix in flight—the tattoo now clearly visible through the crystal water.
Wait.
A phoenix, rising from the ashes.
The Phoenix? From Rising Ashes? She knew he’d looked familiar, but he was supposed to be dead. That’s what the media had claimed several months ago.
Her legs gave way suddenly as two hands wrapped around her ankles and pulled her under. She gasped for air as she came up.
Phoenix laughed. “Did you think I’d let you get away with splashing me?”
Ella joined him between her splutters as she wiped the water from her face. “For a moment, yes.”
His eyes grew serious. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For bringing me here. I needed this.”
Ella moved closer and touched his arm. “I couldn’t help noticing your back as you swam past.” She circled to his side. “Do you mind? May I see it?”
He nodded.
Ella wasn’t sure which question he’d answered. The latter she decided as she moved behind him and allowed her fingers to trace the markings on his skin that outlined the enormous bird. “I know who you are. Rising Ashes—”
Phoenix turned. “Now do you understand?”
“I understand why you don’t want this tattoo to be seen. But why let the world think you’re dead?”
He released a sigh that carried the weight of the world. “It’s a long, ugly story.”
“I have time. And I’m a good listener.”
He sucked in a breath then tipped his head. “Why don’t I tell you once we’re back on the beach? I don’t want to spoil this swim.”
“Sure.”
“Race you to the pier?”
“You’re on.”
When the skin on her fingers began to wrinkle, Ella decided it was time to head for her beach towel. Nice as it would be to continue playing in the bay’s cool waters
, she was beyond anxious to hear his story.
Ella shook the sand from her towel then began to dry herself, unable to tear her gaze from Phoenix as she watched him do the same. The tattoo on his back was big but beautiful. How far did this Phoenix have to rise? How deep were his ashes?
She forced her thoughts away from speculation and held out her hands, laughing. “If I wasn’t worried I’d shrivel up like an old prune, I would’ve stayed in there all afternoon. That was fun.” She spread her towel on the sand then stretched out on top of it, eager to give him the floor—or sand—to speak.
Phoenix settled beside her, and she glanced at him. Moisture glistened on his broad shoulders where he’d failed to dry, his skin a light shade of pink. Ella bolted upright. “Didn’t you put on sunscreen?”
“No.”
“Heavens, Phoenix…venturing out in the Australian sun without protection, you’ll burn your British hide like toast.”
“But you didn’t—”
“I put some on when I changed before we left. Besides, I don’t need it as much as you do.” Ella rummaged inside her beachbag. As her fingers wrapped around a bottle, her phone rang. She pulled the bottle of sunscreen out and set it down on her towel. Then she dug in her bag for her phone to silence it, first glancing at the number.
London.
“I’m sorry, I have to take this.” A smile stretched across her face as she slid her finger over the screen. “Uncle Jim. This is early for you to be calling.”
Sobs filtered through the phone, jarring her perky greeting. “No—Ella—it’s me, Mary.”
“Aunty Mary! What’s wrong?”
Phoenix sat up, a frown etching his brow.
Ella pushed to her feet and walked to where the dry sand became wet, watching as the water lapped at her toes.
“I… I’ve been trying to reach you for half an hour. It’s your Uncle Jim…” A cry completed Mary’s sentence.
Fear stabbed Ella’s heart. “What happened? Is he all right? Is he—”
Dead?
She couldn’t say the word. She’d traveled this road with her parents’ untimely deaths—she couldn’t do it again with another close family member.
“H–he went to church at the crack of dawn, wanted to work on his Christmas sermon…said he was struggling with it. Oh, dear God—” Aunty Mary broke into sobs again.
Ella gripped the phone tighter, waiting to hear what had happened. As she listened to her aunt trying to regain her composure, Ella’s mind spun through a myriad of scenarios. Did Uncle Jim have a stroke in the church? Alone? A car accident on the way? Maybe he tripped and fell through one of the church windows? Or had the church burned down? Her aunt’s voice broke her panicked thoughts.
“He said he needed to pray, too. Something’s been weighing on his heart the past few weeks, but he wouldn’t say what. ‘God knows’ was all he’d tell me. I think he was worried about Justin. He hadn’t got past opening the church’s front door, when—when they attacked him. My poor Jim.”
“Who attacked him? Is he all right? Is this Justin to blame?”
Biting on her thumbnail, Ella turned. Phoenix stood right behind her. She blinked back the moisture in her eyes as he rested his hands on her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.
“He’s beat up bad, Ella. Thank the good Lord a neighbor putting out his rubbish bin heard the commotion. He called the police.”
“Do they know who did this?”
“They got away before the police arrived.”
“Where are you now? Where’s Uncle Jim?”
“We’re at the hospital. Uncle Jim’s in surgery. I wanted to let you know so you could pray for him.”
Nodding, Ella swiped at the tears falling faster than she could contain them. “Of course. Please keep me updated.”
“I will. Goodbye.”
“Aunty Mary, when he wakes up, send him my love. I won’t stop praying for you both.”
Ella cut the call then turned and fell into Phoenix’s strong arms, not caring that her tears wet his skin all over again.
Pastor Jim had been attacked? This had to be Danny’s work—a warning to pay back the money. This was his fault. But how could he tell Ella that now?
He tightened his hold on her. “Bad news?”
She nodded, her head moving against his chest. For a while she allowed her angst release in his embrace. If only he could reassure her that everything would be all right. But he didn’t know that. And if Danny didn’t get the information he wanted out of Pastor Jim, would Mary be the next message they sent?
Please, Lord, no.
Easing back, Ella wiped the wetness from her cheeks. “My Uncle Jim, the pastor who lives in London, he—” She brought a hand to her mouth as her face crumpled, and she began to cry again.
Justin drew her back against his chest and smoothed a hand over her damp hair, kissing the top of her head.
“He was attacked at his church early this morning,” Ella whispered into his shoulder. “What kind of monsters would do that to an old man, especially a man of God?”
“I’m so sorry.” Justin laid his head against hers.
“Uncle Jim wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s the kindest man I know.”
Justin knew that all too well. If it weren’t for Pastor Jim Anderson, he’d be pushing up daisies by now. Jim had given him a new lease on life—in more ways than one. He was forever in the man’s debt. And how had he repaid him? By bringing calamity into the Anderson household.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Justin trapped the tears before they spilled. Although his heart ached for his mentor and friend, it was hard to keep his mind from wondering if Pastor Jim had said anything. Would Danny’s henchmen be on a flight to Melbourne at that very moment?
He cleared his throat. “Where’s your uncle now?”
“In hospital, undergoing surgery. I don’t know for what. Aunty Mary didn’t say. She was too upset to talk much, but she probably wouldn’t know the full extent of his injuries.” Ella sighed. Her warm breath against his skin stirred emotions he shouldn’t be feeling. Especially at a time like this.
“Do they know who did this to him?”
The tiny sideways movements of her head gave Justin his answer.
Had Mary told Ella anything that would indicate whether he should be looking for a flight to another remote place? Could he even afford a flight somewhere? He didn’t want to run. Not anymore. And he had a reason to stay.
God, there has to be a way out of this mess.
“Was he able to say anything, to anyone?”
Ella gazed up at him, her face inches from his. All he could think of in that moment was closing the gap to her lips.
“I doubt it. Sounds like he got beat up pretty bad. Must have if he’s being operated on.”
Justin gazed deep into Ella’s eyes, the color reminding him of the green pastures in the famous twenty-third Psalm. He knew what he had to do. Placing his fingers beneath Ella’s chin, he tipped her face up. “Would you like me to pray for your uncle?”
Ella nodded, and Justin closed his eyes.
“Abba, Father, we come before Your throne of grace this afternoon to plead for the life of Your humble servant, Jim Anderson. Father, we don’t know the extent of his injuries, but You do. Please lay your hand on Pastor Jim, and touch every broken and bruised place. Bring healing to him, Lord—not only the injuries, but from the mental trauma of this vicious attack. Give the doctors and surgeons working on Pastor Jim wisdom.
“Lord, Your Word has said that you will avenge, you will repay. And so I pray that you will make the people responsible for the attack on Pastor Jim accountable for every filthy deed they’ve committed.
“I pray for Pastor Jim’s wife, Mary. May she know the comfort of Your presence. May she cling to the knowledge that you work all things for good. Even this.
“And I pray for Ella. Comfort her being so far from her family at a time like this, and encourage her with the fact that prayer is not bound by distance o
r time, that even though she’s not there with them physically, she can be there for them spiritually, anytime, anywhere, through the power of prayer.
“I pray these things in the wonderful name of the One whose stripes have healed us, Your son, Jesus.
“Amen.”
The conviction churned in her gut all the way back to Melbourne. Mackenzie could handle the coffee shop on her own for a while, although it wasn’t ideal to leave during their busiest season of the year. But even though she had backup to allow her to deal with this crisis, Ella couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea of getting on a flight and heading to the other side of the world. If only she could sail there.
She glanced at Phoenix staring out the window. “Thanks again.”
He looked her way. “For what?”
“Praying for my Uncle Jim. That was the most beautiful and uplifting prayer. It was as if you knew him personally. Who taught you to pray like that?”
He turned his gaze back out the window. “My mentor. My friend.”
“He must be an amazing man of God.”
Phoenix nodded.
“Do you think I should go to London? Be there for Uncle Jim and Aunty Mary?”
Phoenix’s head pivoted. “I don’t know if that would be wise. It could be dangerous until whoever did this is caught.”
Ella reached out and squeezed his hand. “You’re so sweet to care, but it must’ve been a random mugging. The likelihood of catching the perpetrators is low.”
“Still, wouldn’t it be better to go once your uncle’s out of hospital? I’m sure your aunt will need your help more then. And the police would have had more time to find out who did this, too.”
He doesn’t want me to go. How about that? One silver lining to this day. Not that she could go, much as she wanted to. Aunty Mary and Uncle Jim…they’d understand.
Mum and Dad, I miss you so much. Please God, don’t take Uncle Jim from me as well.
She didn’t want to be alone. Couldn’t. Uncle Jim’s mugging had her mind vulnerable to thoughts of tragedy. And death.
Her eyes flitted in Phoenix’s direction before she focused on the road ahead and the traffic. “Are you in a hurry to get home?”
Melbourne Memories (Heart of Australia) Page 5