by Bowes, K T
Michael nodded, still feeling shaken and let the pedals out more carefully. “Are you sure you’re ok?” he asked, his face shrouded with guilt. “If anything happened to you, Logan would kill me and bury the body.”
The downward journey was still bumpy and ragged, but less frantic and frightening than before. At the house, Michael helped Hana out carefully and apologised again. “It’s fine,” she said graciously and escaped to Logan’s room where she lay on the bed and tried to relax against the nagging tightness.
That evening, the hotel served its last meal for the Christmas period. It wasn’t what they usually did, but Logan felt his mother was long overdue a decent rest and the bookings were already racking up for immediately after. Miriam seemed happier and let Hana help her with the preparations for a family celebration. “On Christmas Day, we have a barbeque for all the stockmen and staff who have nowhere else to be,” she said with uncharacteristic excitement in her voice and face. “Liza’s coming home tomorrow, so we’ll all be together for the first time in years.” Miriam clapped her hands and Hana tried to maintain her false smile. Logan’s sister’s coming home. Oh goody!
Hana’s back seemed to hurt no matter what she did, so she went to the dining room to help serve, thinking the exercise might help. Leslie sent her quickly back to her room. “You look terrible, girlie. Are you sickenin’ for something?”
Slightly offended, Hana trooped upstairs. Her back hurt too much to knit or read, so she attacked Logan’s DVD cupboard looking for something to watch. It was hot upstairs and Hana flung the ranch slider open and got down on all fours to raid the stash of shiny cases containing her entertainment for the evening. Logan’s penchant for action genre was frustrating, but in the absence of anything else she hadn’t already watched, Hana knelt on the wooden boards and contemplated the cover of a ‘Die Hard’ movie. It looked familiar and she knew she would probably get half way through and realise she had already seen it. Her knees ached and her back pulled, sending shooting pains around her stomach. “Great! Now I can’t get up.”
Hana tutted, put the DVD case into her mouth and used both hands to get into a crouch position to haul herself back to her feet. Her centre of gravity seemed to have changed and she found the action impossible. “Oh, this is ridiculous!” she complained, clamping the case between her teeth and crawling across the floor towards the footboard to pull herself up. She sniggered to herself, thinking what an idiot she must look.
Reaching the wooden footboard, the DVD case fell from her mouth and clattered to the floor as she saw him. The shiny plastic skittered across the wooden boards and the DVD popped out and deposited itself on the rug upside down. The man stood in front of the closed bedroom door, feet slightly apart, hands behind his back as though guarding her. Hana felt her heart rate increase and heard the blood swishing around her head. A heightened throb-throb-pulse made her whole body shake with the force of her panic. She stared at him, wide-eyed and paralysed. Had Laval somehow got to her from prison?
He stared back evenly. His hair curled dark and wavy, longer than a tidy look and the eyes were Du Rose orbs, grey, almond shaped and stunning. The man’s skin was olive and he had a look of Alfred, although the differences were many. He towered over Hana, graced with an elegant natural height that fitted his build. Despite his age, he looked honed and fit, muscle and vein distinguishing themselves through the flesh on his forearms and protruding from his white tee shirt.
He stepped towards her and Hana flinched, still clinging to the footboard, her knees going numb. “No, kōtiro, please don’t be scared of me.” His face clouded with a bone-deep sadness that affected Hana’s soul. His eyes were tortured by untold horrors and she felt herself involuntarily drawn to his magnetism. The man offered her his hand and encouraged her with a beautiful open smile. Even at his great age, he was handsome and weathered. He hauled Hana to her feet with care, supporting her with a gentle hand in the small of her back and flapping his other hand at the room in general. “This used to be my room. I grew up in here.” He cast his eye around and nodded in approval. “The boy made it nice. Ka pai.”
His hands were long and slender, guitar player’s fingers, used to doing outdoor work with old cuts and scars on his brown skin. His thumb was big and curved and looked as though it had been broken and badly set.
Pins and needles in her knees warned Hana she should sit down. The man stood back to let her sit on the edge of the bed, his scuffed and scarred brown cowboy boots making a click on the wooden floor as he stepped. A loose board under his foot creaked and the look of a delighted child lit his face as memories coursed through his eyes. “They try, but they don’t change history, do they, Hana Du Rose? They can’t wipe out everything.”
He reminded her powerfully of someone she knew as he gave a lopsided smile. He was still devastatingly handsome in a rugged, unshaven kind of way. Pinprick grey hairs dotted the black around his sideburns and littered through his stubble, increasing in number either side of his chin. His grey eyes pierced into hers, reading her soul in a way that felt horribly familiar. “Stand,” he said, with a commanding tone.
Hana shrank back, weak at the knees with fear and confusion but he pulled at her hand and then, realising it was futile, lifted her up by putting both hands under her elbows and bracing himself for her. He was immensely strong and as Hana shot to her feet, she found herself inches from his broad chest. It was an awkward and intimate moment. “Reuben,” he said in a soft lilting accent and he stuck out his hand. Hana shook it gently, feeling the hard calluses under her palm.
Her breath came in short rasps. “Hana,” she said, her voice a whisper and he laughed, a sound like distant wind chimes.
“I know who you are.” He reached out with his left hand and laid it over her stomach. Hana drew back, but his reach was easy with those long arms and her legs were trapped against the bed. His touch was gentle as he said softly, “And I know who this is.”
The baby kicked against his hand and he smiled a genuine expression of pleasure. Hana felt cross at her child, as though she had betrayed her mother. She pushed the man’s hand away and tried to back out from where he had pinned her. He didn’t try to stop her, letting her slide away and watching her out of the corner of his eyes. She felt weak but backed away towards the ranch slider. “Why are you here?” she asked.
Reuben turned and gave her a sad smile. His grey eyes were like pools of ice on a dark river, tales of heartache fathoms deep coursed through them and into Hana. She felt like crying with the weight of it. “I wanted to meet my hunaonga,” he said with a smile. “And I knew you wouldn’t come to me.”
He crossed the room in three long strides and bending down, kissed Hana lightly on her cheek with gentleness. He grazed her soft skin with his stubble and she simultaneously smelled and sensed the essence of the man. He ran his thumb along the soft skin under her eye and Hana gasped in recognition at the familiar action.
Reuben saw and his eyes filled with a twinkling of laughter and happiness at their shared confidence. Then he turned and left, closing the bedroom door quietly behind him.
With a sinking of spirits but without a shadow of a doubt, Hana knew him.
Du Rose Legacy
Chapter 33
A few days before Christmas, Logan finally acknowledged his concern for Hana. She was quiet and subdued, avoiding Michael’s company and going to sleep before Logan returned at night. She declined a trip into Auckland with Logan and Alfred and he found her crying on the bench in Miriam’s pretty rose garden. “What’s wrong, babe? Are you not feeling well?” Logan sat down next to her on the seat, sliding his arm around his wife’s waist, certain he felt her cringe at his touch. “Please tell me what’s going on, you’re scaring me. Is something wrong with the baby?”
“No!” Hana couldn’t hide her irritation.
“Is it the row I had with Michael?” Logan’s voice contained a heavy helping of guilt.
“It didn’t help,” Hana grumbled. “The atmosphere betw
een you is hideous, hardly the stuff of Christmas cheer. It makes me wish I was back at home.”
Logan bit his lip. “Sorry, babe. Everything’s nearly done for the holiday so you’ve got me all to yourself for a few days from tomorrow. It’s not always like this. I know you’ve been bored.” Logan dragged her into his body, feeling the uncharacteristic resistance. “Why do I get the feeling you’re keeping something from me?” He sounded hurt and it made Hana react with guilty anger.
“Because you imagine stuff,” she replied rudely. “A bit like imagining your brother would make a pass at a woman who currently looks like an orange and walks like a penguin.” There was no humour in Hana’s tone but she laced her comment with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I said I’m sorry,” he replied. “Things between me and Michael are complicated nowadays.”
“But family’s all we have!” Hana implored. “There is nothing else. Without it, we’re lost.” She wrung her hands and gnawed on her bottom lip. “Logan?” Hana turned her face towards her husband. Her eyes were wide and filled with agony. He sat up and looked concerned. “Logan, please call off the legal action on your uncle?”
“What? No!” Logan removed his arms from around her and slid away in anger. “Not you as well! I would have thought at least my wife would support me.”
“It’s important, Logan. Please? Just do it for me?”
“No! And thanks for nothing!” he spat, getting up and walking away from her. Hana sat on the seat and cried herself into a frenzy, accompanied only by a tui bird, who ruffled his white bow tie and mimicked her tears.
Logan’s family unit was complete with the celebrated arrival of the judge and the evenings were filled with laughter as the siblings ribbed each other. Miriam was in her element, feeding and providing for her brood. Tama, usually fine in the house, also seemed out of sorts and a little on the fringes and he and Hana hung together like driftwood after a storm. It irritated Logan no end after the effort he made with Hana’s family and he complained to Jack. “I thought I married a woman with loyalty!” The deaf stable manager patted him on the arm and signed to him not to be such a jerk.
“He’s caved!” The call from Logan’s lawyer inevitably came and Logan whooped loudly, his shouts echoing off the craggy ridges around him. The stockmen with him stopped what they were doing and waited with nervous anticipation.
“So what happened?” Logan asked into his cell phone.
“The developers have caved as well and planning permission was revoked last night by an embarrassed town planning committee, reassured by my promise on your behalf of no further action. The land’s under notice, pending restoration back to its original state.”
“Geez mate, thanks. That’s awesome news!” Logan rang off and shared the news with his men, who clapped him on the back and enjoyed their employer’s lifted spirits.
“That showed the old bugger,” Toby smiled. “Maybe he can call his psycho son off us now.”
“Just keep running Kane off with the guns,” Logan said with a smile. “And if you accidentally trip and shoot him, make the body disappear.”
The men laughed and nodded. They all looked forward to the minor vandalism and irritating threats ceasing as quickly as it had begun. But Logan hadn’t shared the sting which came at the end of the conversation. “Reuben Du Rose wants a face to face meeting with you,” his lawyer said. “And the promise that it’s all over.” Logan had walked away from his men so they couldn’t eavesdrop.
“Why does he want to meet me? We have nothing to say to each other. Dad hates him and from what I’ve seen this year, I understand why. Tell the old man I’ll deal with Nev. We’ve always got along fine.”
“No deal,” came the lawyer’s assertive tone, resonating down the phone. “He says it has to be you. I already suggested you meet with the son. Reuben Du Rose said no, it has to be you. If you want an end to this now, you’ll have to meet him. Want me to come down?”
“No, thanks. I’ll deal with it and let you know.”
Logan punched the air triumphantly, feeling he had finally won some positive battle in the family feud that had spanned four decades. He stopped work and rode up to the house to tell Hana.
To his dismay, she lay on the bed looking at him blindly, not reacting the way he hoped. He repeated it, in case she hadn’t been listening, but great tears rolled down her cheeks and onto the bedspread, filling him with an inexplicably sick feeling. Then she turned her back towards him. “You should have let this go. You don’t understand what you’re doing.”
Logan slammed the door on the way out and went to share his news with the family. Everyone except his mother was elated, slapping him on the back and cracking open beers in celebration. Miriam quietly left the room and Logan didn’t seen her again that night. The men partied and got drunk, Logan included, but the lack of support from the women in his life irked him. He showed his displeasure with his wife by coming to bed late, making as much noise as he needed to and allowing his drunkenness to make him bullish and inconsiderate. “Some bloody wife you are!” he slurred, yanking the covers over to his side. “It didn’t take you long to go over to the dark side, did it? Michael and the son he didn’t even want have fed you their poison and you’ve fallen for it.”
Hana cried quietly into her pillow and listened to her husband’s drunken snores. She wished for the calm of Culver’s Cottage and the English teacher she married. She longed to be at home and leave this fetid, secret filled mess and the tortured man next to her.
Logan woke up the next day with a pounding headache, to find Hana had already got up and gone downstairs. “Bloody hell!” He remembered his accusations of the night before and felt a deep sense of regret. Instinct told him something was badly wrong with his wife and it filled him with fear. Her sudden pitch into depression had all the hallmarks of his mother’s disease and a heaviness settled on his heart. He had escaped one curse just to embrace another. The thought of confronting Hana with his conclusions made Logan uncomfortable and he squirmed under the weight of responsibility. He inwardly decided to deal with it after Christmas, throwing himself into the farm work he loved and delaying the painful conversation.
The day before Christmas Eve was traditionally when Miriam made preparations for the family barbeque. She got huge slabs of home killed meat from the hotel freezer and prepared homemade marinades to soak them in the next day, once they had defrosted. Hana fetched and carried herbs from the vegetable garden and chopped and peeled as Miriam directed. “You’re doing good, girl,” Miriam smiled happily. “Not a bad little sous chef.”
The hotel staff were sent home for the holiday to prepare for their own families, leaving the women of the house to do all the work alone. Hana and her mother-in-law worked side by side, stripping beds and filling up the complimentary bottles in the guest rooms, neither wanting to speak. Liza never appeared to help and Hana could hardly contain the rush of relief at not having to strip beds alongside the judge. Hana felt grateful for the enforced thinking time, knowing her latest round of marital difficulties were self-imposed and her inability to keep a damaging secret had produced this latest crack in the fragile glaze of relationship bliss.
“What’s a hunaonga? Hana struggled to repeat Rueben’s strange word as she stripped beds with Miriam.
“Daughter-in-law,” Miriam replied, yanking a pillow from its case.
Hana bit her lip and brooded, her mind working frantically as she processed the problem.
“Do you ever keep secrets from Alfred?” Hana asked her mother-in-law as they folded sheets in the laundry later. Miriam’s hand stilled and her grey eyes fixed dangerously on Hana.
“Why do you ask that?” Her tone was sharp.
“It doesn’t matter,” Hana responded, sensing she had caused great offence and unable to reveal the root of her question anyway.
Every time Logan came near her, all Hana could think about was the enormous lie she carried in her chest and when she saw him naked, t
he whakapapa moko tattoo screamed out at her. It was wrong. It detailed his heritage and it was wrong. It made Hana sick to her stomach.
Miriam’s attitude towards Hana changed after her blundered question about secrecy and she began treating her like one of the women from the township, barking orders as though she was the paid help and not a visitor. “That meat won’t be fully defrosted until Christmas Eve. Put those marinades in the chiller in their containers. Then we’ll rub them into the steaks and leave them until Christmas Day. It’s Alfie’s mother’s recipe. I’ll give it to you one day, when you’ve earned it.”
As they sat at the kitchen table over a cup of tea, Hana observed Miriam taking her tablets but the older woman seemed as listless as Hana felt. “I’m going out for a while,” the old lady snapped and left the room without explanation. Hana saw her out of the window, heading up into the bush near the fence line with the property next door. Hana watched the old lady struggle up the slope and wondered where she was going. It was obvious from a distance that Miriam had lost weight recently, becoming increasingly more bent over. She was evidently taking her medication but unless she was with her children, Miriam behaved as though she was there in body but entirely absent in spirit.
Hana exhaled slowly and sat with her head on the table, resting on her arms. Feeling miserable was exhausting and she hated herself for behaving like a dark black cloud over Christmas. She contemplated heading home and spending the holiday on her own at Culver’s Cottage, but she had promised Logan she wouldn’t run away again. “I’m trapped,” she sighed to herself, rolling a leftover crumb around the table and reminding herself of Bodie’s favourite absentminded activity. It made her even sadder.
The door banged and Hana turned her head as Tama came into the kitchen. He slumped down in the chair next to her and mimicked her stance. She smiled at him and he smiled back and asked, “Where is everyone?”