All The King's Horses: A Tale Of Eternal Love

by Downs, Alethea

A smattering of the events was coming back to her. She could remember him standing over her as she recovered. He had no shirt on she clearly recalled that, and what a fine body he had too. He was muscular, but not overdone like those silly sports stars that spent hours at the gym. No, he was nicely muscled.

  She could remember him shivering too because he had given her his shirt to wear. He must have gone home without it too as it was neatly folded up on the small table beside her bed with her other belongings.

  She had an excuse to search him out now. Not just to thank him, but to return his shirt to him.

  He had soft brown eyes. That suddenly came back to her. How she could possibly have noticed that when she had been retching pretty well most of the time he was there she didn’t know. But she had noticed it, and it had been stored quietly away in her memory bank until now. They were a lovely soft brown, and they were gentle eyes that had looked down on her with compassion. She reached over and scooping up the shirt held it to her cheek. If there was one thing she was determined to do it was to track down the owner of those eyes.

  CHAPTER TWO

  It had been a long night with a particularly awkward client, and Kent was whacked. What was it with high flying businessmen that they always expected Kent to perform impossible feats with the boat? The Japanese the night before had been bad enough, but this fellow had been diabolical. Never satisfied with any of the fish he had caught he was constantly demanding that Kent move him to a new fishing ground. It was almost always dangerously close to a reef or rocky shore. He wasn’t polite about it either, and that’s what grated on Kent the most.

  As Kent passed the spot on the beach he had saved the young woman he wondered how she was doing. He really must get over to the hospital this morning to wish her well. He was running late though, his picky client had seen to that, and so he quickened his pace towards home.

  Three hours later Kent pulled up outside the hospital and walked into reception with a big bunch of flowers in his hand. “I wonder if you could help me,” he said, to the smiling blonde behind the desk. “A young woman was brought in yesterday morning by ambulance. A near drowning, I wonder if you could tell me what ward she’s in?”

  The blonde looked down at the flowers and her smile widened. “You must be the guy who saved her. And now you’ve brought her flowers. How sweet is that?”

  “Yes, I am the person who pulled her out of the water,” Kent admitted sheepishly. “I would like to give her these if I could.” He held the flowers up so she could get a better look.

  “They’re beautiful, but I’m afraid Christy’s already gone home. Her father picked her up half an hour ago.”

  Kent’s face fell. “That’s a shame. I was hoping to meet her under happier circumstances than the last time.”

  “Sorry, you’ve only missed her by thirty minutes too. I’m sure she would’ve been pleased to see you.”

  Kent looked at the flowers in his hand for a moment. “You couldn’t give these to one of the patients who a little cheering up could you?”

  “Of course,” she took the flowers from him and laid them on the counter. “There’s an old lady with no family who came in last night. She’ll be thrilled to have them.”

  Kent walked morosely back to his car. He shouldn’t be feeling this disappointed over someone he had only met briefly, but he was. In fact, he was very disappointed. The ordeal yesterday morning must have affected him a great deal more than he had at first realized. Meeting up with the young woman would have brought a sense of closure to the whole episode. With that taken away from him he was feeling more than a little empty.

  Unlocking the car door he slipped into the driver’s seat and pushed the key into the ignition. With his hands resting on top of the steering wheel he stared through the windscreen at the light rain that had begun to fall.

  What name had the receptionist called her? Christy? That was it. He hadn’t thought to ask her for her last name too. No matter, she was probably already heading back down south with her father by now. She was definitely an out-of-towner, and having just gone through that ordeal she would be eager to get back home again.

  He turned the key and the engine burst into life. It would be best to put her out of his mind. He had a busy week ahead of him and was in serious need of some sleep, so turning the wheels away from the curb he shifted gears and headed for home.

  He gave some thought to his future as he drove through the rain to Paihia. His charter boat business wasn’t exactly thriving. In fact, in the past six months he had only just met the mortgage payments on the boat by the skin of his teeth. If things didn’t pick up soon he ran the very real risk that the bank was going to recall the loan, and that meant he would lose everything he had worked so hard to achieve.

  As he drove into Paihia he pulled into the beachfront and sat behind the wheel watching the waves crashing along the beach. He wouldn’t be taking anyone out in a sea that rough. According to the forecast there was a good chance this weather was settling in for the next five days or so. That meant no income until it had passed. He couldn’t help worrying. That charter boat was his whole life, he didn’t have anything else. If they took it off him he would be starting at the bottom again, and at thirty-one he didn’t fancy that at all.

  He had come up with the deposit for the boat with what he had saved deck handing on a crayfish boat eight years running. That plus the money his dad left him when he had passed away got him to the two hundred thousand dollars he needed for the most beautiful boat he had ever laid eyes on, but the thought of their years of hard work being all for nothing made his blood run cold.

  He brought his hands down savagely on the steering wheel. “I will not fail,” he said firmly.

  The rain was beating down with even greater ferocity on the windscreen now, completely obscuring the beach from view. “I won’t let you down, Dad,” he said, in a more subdued tone.

  A strong gust of wind suddenly buffeted the car, and his thoughts suddenly went back to the boat. He hoped it was securely fastened to its mooring. If this weather got any rougher, then a lose boat being driven onto rocks or into another boat would be his worst nightmare come true, especially since he had tried to save money by not insuring it for its full value.

  Yes, he had staked everything on that boat, all that he had owned, all his youthful energy and the only woman he had ever loved had been sacrificed so his dream of owning a charter boat could become a reality.

  He had been sorry when Jocelyn Holwood had walked out on him. She was no ordinary woman that was for certain. She had taken a fancy to him right from the moment they had met at the annual swordfish club awards dinner, and had done all the chasing. Kent had never been much good at that sort of thing. He had always been one of those quiet types who didn’t push himself forward when it came to women.

  But Jocelyn had been quietly determined to have him. Not that he could claim that he put up much of a fight. She was a good-looking woman, and he had been only too happy to have her on his arm.

  But she couldn’t handle the hours that he worked. He had only just got the boat and was sometimes gone for several days on end. Eventually she gave him the ultimatum. It was either her or the boat. He chose the boat. That was three years ago now, and he hadn’t seen her since. She had left Paihia to live in Auckland, and he had heard along the grapevine that she had taken up with a wealthy property developer. He often wondered if he had done the right thing. She was a good woman, and he had got on exceptionally well with her.

  Really, it had been a case of bad timing. If he had met her in a few years time he might have his mortgage under control and things would have been different.

  Kent started up the car and headed for home. There wasn’t a thing he could do about Jocelyn or this weather, so he might as well catch up on some much needed sleep.

  ♥

  Jack stared out the ranch sliders at the wild scene outside. “The weather might be atrocious but Paihia is still a very beautiful place,” he noted, as he
watched wave after wave roll off the bay and crash headlong into the beach.

  “Yes, it is, and I was fortunate to be able to rent this place with such a magnificent view,” Christy said, handing him a cup of coffee.

  He took a tentative sip at the hot liquid before continuing his study of the bay, “so where to from here then?”

  “I’d like you to stick around for a week or so. Just for me to show you around. Then I thought maybe we’d head back to Auckland together.”

  He turned to look at her. “You hate Auckland, all that congestion and noise. A place like this is where you belong.”

  “I’m going to get worse, Daddy. I’m going to need you around when that happens.”

  He turned back to silently stare out the window again.

  “You can’t just pretend I’m not dying you know. Refusing to talk about it isn’t going to make the cancer go away.”

  “Some people do pull through,” he said quietly.

  “I think we both know that’s not going to happen.”

  “I need to have some hope,” he answered testily. “Don’t take what little I have away from me.”

  She slipped her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “And I love you too, Baby Girl, more than you could ever know. That’s why I need you to fight this thing, if not for yourself then for me.”

  “Alright, Daddy, I’ll try.”

  “Perhaps it would be best if I moved up here to live. I always did want to live by the sea. My grandpa was a fisherman you know. I can remember going out on his boat with him when I was a boy. They were happy days.”

  Her face lit up. “I would love it if you came to live in Paihia. Summers only a few months away, and we would have a wonderful time together.” She could feel her spirits lifting. “When I was a little girl it was always you taking me places. There’s so much to see in the Bay of Islands, and so now I can be the one taking you.”

  He smiled. “It will be like old times. If only your mum could be here with us it would make everything complete.”

  “I miss her to, Daddy. But we’ve still got each other. Let’s make a deal. We’ll both promise to do everything we can to make this summer the best summer we’ve had in years.”

  “It’s a deal,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Now, how about getting your old man something to eat, I’m starving.”

  That night as she lay in bed gazing through the window at the lightening illuminating the stormy sky, she thought about how close she had come to making the biggest mistake of her life. If she had ended everything in the sea yesterday she never would have had the opportunity to spend this coming summer with her father, to reconnect with him in a way she hadn’t done so since she was a child. She actually felt a growing sense of excitement about it. Her father had been all the family she had since her husband died. She would never forget breaking the news to him that Mike had been killed in a head on collision on the motorway. He had enveloped her in his strong arms and they had cried together. But since she had been diagnosed with leukemia she had distanced herself from him, and she saw with astonishing clarity how wrong she had been to do it. If that stranger hadn’t pulled her to safety yesterday she would have gone to her grave alienated from the only person she loved, and that would have been a greater tragedy than the drowning itself.

  Reaching over and pulling the shirt from her bedside table she held it close, its masculine scent immediately bringing his face to mind. Yes, he had been a nice looking man, and he had saved her life at great peril to his own. She must find him. She must thank him for his act of selflessness.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Alright, Mr. Matthews, I understand. Thanks for your custom in the past, and I hope next time you’re in the Bay of Islands the weather will be better for you.” Kent slipped the phone into his pocket and silently cursed his rotten luck. Steven Matthews was one of his best clients. He had been coming to the bay of Islands and hiring Kent to take him fishing for the past four years. Normally he would arrive for two weeks at the beginning of summer and Kent would take him out every day. Steven was a fanatical fisherman, but for some reason he had decided to turn up at the end of winter this time, and had been hit by the terrible winter. The upshot of it was he had just phoned Kent to inform him he was cancelling his bookings and heading off to the Gold Coast to do his fishing.

  Kent fought hard to suppress his rising panic. What was he going to do now? He had been counting on that money to cover his mortgage payments. The bank was not going to be understanding about this. They weren’t known for their patience with mortgage defaulters.

  His survival instinct went into overdrive. There was no way he was going to be able to replace this client at such short notice, especially at this time of the year. The bank wasn’t going to wait for their money. What was there that he could do?

  If he was to give up the house and live on the boat that would save him three hundred and fifty dollars in rent each week. That might be enough to bail him out of trouble in the short term. But it was only a band aid approach to the problem at best. He needed charters to pick up soon or he was sunk, literally.

  He stared solemnly out the window at the driving rain, its relentless pummeling of the coast continuing unabated. If only he had some alternative work he could do on days like this to keep some money coming in. Running a hand through his dark hair he uttered a despondent sigh. Why did life have to be so tough? It wasn’t like he wanted to be rich either. All he wanted out of life was to be able to pay his boat off, and maybe one day meet a nice lady settle down and have a couple of kids. It wasn’t much to ask really.

  He would give his landlord notice tomorrow. Two weeks should be enough time to get the boat sorted for him to shift on to, and with spring just around the corner then surely business would pick up.

  The phone rang again. “Kent here…”

  “Kent…Bob Thomas here. I live opposite the marina. We met at the swordfish club prize giving a few months back.”

  “Yeah, I remember you, Bob.”

  “Look…I’ve got some bad news for you I’m afraid.”

  A tight knot suddenly developed in the pit of Kent’s stomach. “Okay,” he said tentatively, “what kind of bad news?”

  “I’ve just been looking out my window which overlooks the marina and noticed some of the boats have slipped their moorings.”

  Kent knew what he was going to say next before he had even opened his mouth to say it, and his heart sank down to join that knot in his stomach.

  “I’m afraid one of them is your boat, the Bonnie Lass.”

  Kent held his breath. “Is there much damage?”

  “Can’t tell from here, Kent, but she’s been banging up against a few others so my guess is there’ll be some.”

  Kent exhaled slowly. “Thanks for letting me know, Bob, I really appreciate it.”

  “Not a problem. And hey, if you need a hand getting her back onto her mooring I’m happy to give you a hand.”

  “I’ll take you up on that offer, Bob. What’s say I meet you down at the marina in twenty minutes?”

  When Kent pulled up at the marina the wind and rain was still lashing the coast with a violence he hadn’t seen in years. Parking the car he then spilled out into the storm.

  She’s drifted in a bit closer,” Bob yelled out as Kent walked with head down and body leaning into the wind to join him on the jetty. “If we can get a line out to her I reckon we’ll be able to get her back on her mooring.”

  Kent nodded. Getting a line to her was what they needed to do alright, but with the sea bucking and kicking up a fuss the way it was it was going to take a small miracle to pull it off.

  “Got any ideas on how we might get a line to her?” Kent asked hopefully.

  “I’ve got a decent sized grappling hook with me so I figured we might be able to snag the guard rails on her.”

  “Might work,” Kent conceded. “If we can pull her in close enough I might be able
to get on board and start the engine. That’ll make it easier to get her back on the mooring.”

  Bob hooked the guard rail on his fourth attempt, and the pair used all their combined strength to pull the Bonnie Lass in closer and wrap the rope securely around a jetty pile.

  “The winds blowing her in the right direction to keep the rope tight,” Bob noted. “She’s going to bang into that mooring pile…yep, she has. Hopefully she’ll stay there long enough for you to get to her.”

  Kent dragged the dinghy down the slipway and with Bob’s help managed to launch off into the foaming melee. Grabbing hold of the taut rope he pulled himself hand over hand gradually working the dinghy closer to the Bonnie Lass.

  A larger than normal swell swept in and lifting the small craft up wrenched his hands free of the rope, sending him spinning wildly off into the swirling cauldron. He could just hear Bob shouting something from back on the jetty but had no idea what it was.

  Up he went, riding high on the crest of a swell, the Bonnie Lass coming into sight about ten yards away. Then with stomach sickening force he was thrust violently down into a watery trough, everything hidden from view by the walls of water that dwarfed him.

  Suddenly, he was riding high again, and right beside him was the Bonnie Lass. With a wood splintering crunch he was smashed into her hull and had only a splint second to lunge for the guard rail before the dinghy disappeared from beneath him.

  With every ounce of his strength he hauled himself over the guard rail and lay wet and panting on the deck of the boat.

  Now, if only he could get the old girl started up he would have a fighting chance at saving her.

  She fired up on the third attempt, and Kent was glad to see Bob had the foresight to cut the rope. Edging the Bonnie Lass clear of the mooring pile he waited for the present swell to pass over before he gunned the throttle and headed for his mooring.

  Too late he saw it. A submerged yacht lay right in his path. Hauling the wheel hard to port he did his best to pass to the left of it but was rewarded with a sickening crunch.