He cleared his throat. ‘The two we rescued are where they’re supposed to be. The chestnut’s tormenting the cows.’
Fliss frowned as she slowly turned to look to where the chestnut was cantering alongside the house yard fence. ‘We can’t let him get to the mare again.’
‘We won’t. After I’m sure you’re okay, I’ll put him in his own paddock.’
‘I’m fine. Please do it now. He’s such a brute. Tomorrow I’m calling Old Clarry, as well as Denham and Tanner. They have one mean horse to sort out.’
Hewitt smoothed hair from off her cheek. Mud and blood smeared her chin and she trembled as shock kicked in.
‘Sit tight. I’ll deal with the chestnut and then, I’m not taking no for an answer, we’ll head to Edna’s so you can have a hot shower and get cleaned up.’
When the last of the orange sunset streaked across the sky, Hewitt tucked a blanket around Fliss as she lay asleep in Edna’s frilly guest bedroom. Clean and warm, she’d struggled to stay awake when Bethany had served pumpkin soup for an early dinner. Fliss was adamant she hadn’t knocked her head, so she didn’t have concussion, but did concede she was tired and sore. The rain had started again and after she’d smothered another yawn Fliss had given in to Bethany’s insistence they stay the night. Relieved, Hewitt had collected Fliss’s duffle bag from the ute.
Now Fliss was safe and they were alone, Hewitt allowed his control to slip. He touched his mouth to hers and she smiled in her sleep. But her response brought no joy or comfort. The terror that had been unleashed by seeing her lying on the ground writhed and thrashed until it consumed him. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t rationalise. All he could do was feel.
And the emotions weren’t ones he’d ever wanted to experience again. Anguish. Despair. Torment. Losing Brody had carved off a piece of his heart, but if anything happened to Fliss he’d never be whole again.
He gave in to his flight response and came to his feet. He needed air. He needed to breathe. He thought he’d moved on enough in his grief to be ready to start the life he’d always wanted with the only woman he’d ever truly love. But the brutal truth was he hadn’t.
Fliss’s accident had taken him back to a place he’d never wanted to revisit. The metallic scent of blood, the frenzied racing of his heart, his absolute powerlessness had all triggered a desperate, deep-seated fear. A fear that dragged him under and suffocated him.
There was a reason why his duffle bag was still in his ute. Every moment he stayed with Fliss only increased the hurt he’d promised he’d never cause her. Until he faced his demons and could fully invest in the relationship she deserved, he had no place being by her side. Lizzie wasn’t going to have the wedding and happy-ever-after she believed in. With his heart breaking and soul numb, he bent to give Fliss a final kiss.
He would head to Bundara to pack and collect Garnet. There’d be no sleep for him tonight. When the sun rose, he’d return here for when Fliss woke up to say goodbye.
CHAPTER
19
Something wasn’t right.
Fliss opened her heavy eyes and through the haze of sleep realised she was in an unfamiliar, darkened room and that Hewitt wasn’t beside her. Then she registered the ring and too-bright flashes of her phone on the bedside table.
It took two attempts but her fingers connected with her mobile. She held the phone to her ear but didn’t speak.
Cressy’s worried voice sounded. ‘Fliss?’
‘I’m here.’
‘How are you feeling?’
She dragged the hair off her face and winced. ‘Never better.’
Her light reply failed to erase the concern in Cressy’s voice. ‘Are you still at Bethany’s?’
‘Yes. What time is it?’
‘It’s eight o’clock at night. Hewitt’s not with you?’
‘He’s out talking to Bethany.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘I called him to see how you were, as I tried you earlier. He didn’t talk long but … Fliss, I know when someone’s talking hands-free on their phone in their car.’
Fliss pushed off the bedcovers, ignoring the protest of stiff and bruised muscles. ‘When was this?’
‘About ten minutes ago. Did he say he was going anywhere?’
‘No. If anything, he was determined we’d stay. He said I needed to rest.’
She came to her feet. The plush carpet cushioned her bare feet as she went to the window to pull back the heavy curtains. The pale wash of moonlight showed the ripple of raindrops on puddles and an empty space where Hewitt’s ute had been.
Mouth dry, she swallowed. ‘You’re right. His ute’s gone.’
‘Fliss, as much as I don’t want to say this, I don’t think Hewitt’s left for a simple reason. I know him well enough to sense when he’s shutting down. His voice was grave, tight, like when he arrived.’
‘He was quiet when we got here but otherwise seemed fine.’ She rubbed her forehead, trying to sift through their dinner conversation. ‘Where would he be going? Why didn’t he tell me he’d be leaving?’
‘I don’t know. What exactly happened at Old Clarry’s?’
‘Nothing … except, like I messaged you, I got winded by one of the horses.’
‘So you got hit?’
‘Yes, I was knocked over but I wasn’t lying there for lo—’ Fliss grabbed her jeans that lay over the back of a winged chair. ‘I have to go after him. I would have been sprawled on the ground, just like Brody would have been.’
‘That’s what’s upset him. He’ll need to be with the twins; they’re the ones who got him through after Brody died.’
Fliss pulled on a white shirt over her pyjama tank top. ‘That’s what I think as well. But he’d never leave without Garnet so he’d be going to Bundara before the bridge closes.’
‘Fliss … would you listen if I said to call him and not go after him until the morning? It’s raining and the roads are going to be bad.’
She slung her handbag over her shoulder. ‘I’ll be fine. Bethany will have a four-wheel drive I can borrow. I need to banish my fears and learn to drive in the mud.’
Despite the strength of her words, Fliss drew a steadying breath as she left the bitumen and sent Edna and Noel’s farm Hilux onto the red dirt road that would take her home. She could do this. She had to. She’d driven with Hewitt enough times to notice how he handled the slippery road conditions. She kept to a careful speed. When the ute slid, she kept her front wheels pointed in the direction of the slide and eased herself back onto the muddy road. When she needed to slow she didn’t slam on the brakes.
Her headlights shone on the mass of water lapping at the bottom of the white bridge. She was taking a risk heading home. The river peak would soon be passing through and the road would be closed. She could only hope Cressy had caught Hewitt on the way to Bundara, not on his way out. Otherwise she’d have a long drive west to Mayfield.
The old wooden planks on the bridge rattled and her knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. But it wasn’t driving on the rickety bridge that caused her concern, but what lay ahead.
Professionally she could understand how Hewitt seeing her on the ground had reawakened the memories that haunted him. Walking into the Woodlea hospital had taken her back to the moment she’d lost Caitlyn. But personally she couldn’t understand why Hewitt would run and close himself off again. She’d thought they had a connection that was stronger than the fears they faced.
She’d tried to call twice but his phone had gone to voicemail. What if he wouldn’t talk to her? What if she couldn’t convince him to stay? She squared her shoulders. The only thing she was sure of was that she loved him and she needed to let him know how much he meant to her. She had to hope it would be enough.
She drove past her milk-can mailbox and negotiated the dip in the road filled with fast-flowing water. When she saw the black gleam of Hewitt’s ute parked outside the stables she released the breath she’d been holdin
g. But her relief was short-lived. The empty horse float was attached and the quad bike loaded. Hewitt might still be there, but he wasn’t planning to stay.
At the soft patch in the curve of the road beside the garden gate, she kept the ute’s momentum going until she pulled up beside Hewitt’s ute.
She left the driver’s seat and the glare of the sensor light revealed the layers of mud covering Edna and Noel’s silver farm ute. If it’d been any other time she’d have acknowledged she’d just passed some sort of rite of passage. But tonight it was all about holding on to the man she wasn’t going to let go. No matter how strong and stubborn he might be.
Hewitt stood in the doorway of the stables, dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans. Just like on the day he’d arrived, his easy, casual stance didn’t tell the whole story. Beneath the bright glow of the outside light his face was all harsh angles and shadowed hollows. But it was his eyes that caused her steps to falter. Hooded and dark, they spoke of untold suffering.
His intense stillness broke her heart. His emotions were locked down so tight she wasn’t sure she had the power to release them. She didn’t say a word, just closed the distance between them and walked into his arms. He slid a hand into the hair at her nape and wrapped his arm around her waist. He smelt of fresh soap and the cedar tang of aftershave. Scents that had come to signify home and belonging.
Hewitt didn’t speak, just held her as though he’d never let her go. Fliss wasn’t fooled. His words would convey a message far different to his touch.
His hoarse voice sounded in her ear. ‘Fliss … I have to go.’
She pulled away a little to see his face. His expression remained tight, guarded.
‘You can’t just … leave.’
As hard as she tried she couldn’t stop pain from choking her words.
A muscle worked in his jaw. ‘I wasn’t. I was planning to see you in the morning … to say goodbye. But with the bridge going under, I was going to take Garnet home and come back to see you.’
His deep, anguished tone gave her hope his emotions were battling the iron grip he kept on them.
‘Were you planning to sleep anytime in the next twenty-four hours?’
‘No.’
‘Do I need to give you a lecture on the dangers of sleep deprivation?’
An almost smile shaped his lips. ‘That won’t be necessary, Dr Fliss.’
‘Which just leaves us to talk about us.’
‘It does.’ Strain carved grooves beside his mouth.
His arms dropped from around her and he stepped away from the doorway. She entered the stables to sit on the sofa. His full duffle bag sat on the bottom step of the wooden staircase that led to the bedroom.
He sat on the sofa, careful to keep his distance, and faced her. She stretched out her hand to curl her little finger around his. To her relief, he didn’t shift his hand away.
Voice low, he spoke first. ‘I’m sorry. The last thing I’ve ever wanted to do was hurt you.’
‘I know.’
‘Seeing you on the ground … if I lost you like I did Brody … it would break me … I’d be no good for anything or anyone.’
She nodded, unable to speak. Hewitt wasn’t afraid of anything and yet his feelings for her had brought him to his knees.
‘If I go now it will save you hurt in the long run. I thought now was an okay time for me. I was wrong.’
‘I’ll wait.’
He slipped his hand free and folded his arms. ‘I can’t ask you to do that. It’s asking too much.’
‘No, it isn’t. And I’m waiting, even if you ask me not to.’
She kept her voice calm, even though her instincts told her she was losing him. His eyes were bleak, empty, and his shoulders rigid. He’d gone into lockdown mode.
‘Fliss … I don’t know if I can ever move past this … fear.’ He slid to the edge of the sofa, readying himself to stand. ‘There can be no way forward for us.’
She searched for the right words to reach him. The fight for their future wasn’t ending here. Once he came to his feet there’d be no way she could stop him walking out the door.
‘Hewitt … when there’s a wreck in the rodeo arena, which way do you ride? To the wreck or in the opposite direction?’
‘Is this a trick question?’
She gave a small smile. ‘Only if you want it to be.’
‘Always to the wreck.’
‘No matter what might happen?’
He slowly nodded as a spark of understanding flared in his eyes.
Hope fluttered inside. She placed her palm on his cheek, uncaring he’d feel how much she was shaking. She had to keep him with her. ‘I love you.’
The warmth of his hand that covered hers gave her the courage to continue.
‘I can’t let you leave. It would break me. I’ve spent my life going out with people who I knew were wrong for me because I didn’t want to risk my heart. But with you … I have to take the risk because you’re the only man I’ll ever want. I know seeing me on the ground today was tough, but you don’t need to ride in the opposite direction. We can face your fears together. You don’t have to shoulder this alo—’
Hewitt’s kiss silenced her. His hands tangled in her hair. His heat burned against her skin. His mouth told her without words he’d spend a lifetime riding towards whatever came their way. She accepted everything his touch offered and gave as much in return.
When they broke apart, light had eclipsed the darkness in his eyes. She’d never seen his irises such a smoky grey or his smile so tender.
‘From that first day, I knew … you’re the only one for me. You’re right. I can’t let fear hold me back. You have no idea how much I love you, Dr Fliss. Especially when you have an answer for everything.’
The raw, intense emotion in his voice touched her even more than his husky words. As strong as he was, Hewitt was capable of feeling deeply. He was a man to spend forever with.
She held his gaze, knowing tears would be shining in her eyes. The battle for the man she’d loved had been won.
She slipped her hands beneath the soft cotton of his black T-shirt. ‘No, I don’t know how much you love me. You’re just going to have to show me … over and over again.’
Thanks to Hewitt having already packed his bags, the permanent move into the main house took less than ten minutes. Thanks to the bridge going under they had three uninterrupted days for Hewitt to show her how much he loved her.
When the floodwaters receded, they still had a week until his shoulder scan appointment. Once Hewitt had the all-clear, he’d return to Mayfield. They would live between his house and Bundara until he was no longer needed to run the family farm fulltime. Fliss had mentioned the adjoining property coming up for sale and Hewitt had paid their elderly neighbour a visit. When Hewitt hadn’t returned after three hours she knew they’d bonded over their appreciation for yellow and green farm machinery.
Having Hewitt in her life filled a void Fliss had refused to acknowledge in her quest to be a doctor. All her yearnings for a home and a family were no longer hidden in the shadows. It was as though he’d completed a part of her that had been missing.
She sighed as she fed another Ryan family tree she couldn’t be connected to through the paper shredder. If only the DNA part of her that remained missing could be found.
‘Another strikeout?’ Hewitt entered her office carrying the box containing her mother’s old novels that Cressy had given her on the day he’d passed the Reggie test.
‘Yes, but that’s okay, I have two Ryan names left on my list. I have to be getting close. Who knows, by this afternoon I might have found a link and we’ll be making a mad dash to Sydney.’
She walked over to where Hewitt sat the box on the floor. He drew her close and rested his head on hers as they looked at the new bookshelf he’d made out of another old door. Sections had been removed and small shelves built to hold books and other items. Hewitt’s man-cave now had almost as many power tools as Denham’s sh
ed.
‘It looks so good. Cressy’s going to want one of these too.’ She paused as rain sounded on the roof. ‘No way. I only just hung out the towels.’
‘I thought you were being optimistic doing a load of washing.’ He snuck a kiss. ‘I’ll get them off the line before they get wet and hang at the perfect puppy-grabbing height.’
After Hewitt left she opened the box. Her DNA could wait for a little while. A special bookshelf called for special things and these were her mother’s favourite books. She and Denham’s mother, Audrey, had been avid readers, with Audrey even having had a personal library over at Claremont. Fliss arranged a selection of novels on the bottom two shelves. The old fabric covers in hues of blues, greens and reds suited the distressed white finish of the wood.
In the middle of the box she found a dark gold-embossed copy of Pride and Prejudice. She smiled and flipped through the book. Her mother had given her and Cressy their own special copies. On rainy days like today the television series of the book had been their go-to entertainment. When Cressy had been young she’d taken to calling it the Mr Darcy show.
Fliss went to put the book on the third shelf when she saw a small gap in the pages. Her mother often pressed flowers and there could be an old violet she’d missed. But when Fliss opened the book, a photograph fell out. She made no move to pick it up.
The picture was of a man standing beside a rock pool looking out to sea. It was only a profile shot, but it was enough. Her heart beat too loudly in her ears. Her breaths emerged too short and too shallow. The last two Ryan names would have also been strikeouts. For her biological father’s surname wasn’t Ryan … it was Barclay.
She slowly sank to sit on the floor. The man in the photograph was Lewis.
Hewitt looked across to where Fliss sat still and silent in the passenger seat of his ute.
‘It was like Christmas had come when I took the dogs to Cressy’s. Even Tippy was glad to see the puppies.’
Fliss cast him a subdued smile. ‘Hopefully we won’t be in Sydney long and they can all be home soon.’
The Red Dirt Road Page 27