***
Martin was awake before the first fingers of light crept into the bedroom. He lay on one side, Christie nestled in his arms, fast asleep. So warm, her body against his, and so deeply relaxed.
She needed her rest. Much as Christie believed she was unstoppable and invincible, she wasn’t. Today would exhaust her, between the volume of work to be done and the emotional ride. He knew she’d keep going until she dropped.
One more night and then this wonderful woman would become his wife. He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling her scent in time with her soft breaths.
Tonight, after their celebration dinner with their friends and family, he would kiss her goodnight, leave her at Palmerston House, and come home to Randall. They’d spend as long in the studio as it took to finish the painting, for he’d decided to give it to Christie. Heartbreaking and poignant it may be, but without doubt it stated his undying love for her in a way nothing else would.
Christie stirred, turning in Martin’s arms to face him, her eyes flickering open, then closing again.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Go back to sleep.”
She shuffled a bit closer and settled against him.
These moments were etched in his memory. Christie safe here with him. Randall softly snoring in his bed near the window. His little family. A warm glow filled his heart. Peace. Love. Contentment. All the things he’d lost as a small child. Except for his life with Thomas.
“Why so sad?” Christie stared at him through sleepy eyes.
“No. The opposite. Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”
“I want to be awake to enjoy every minute of today. And tomorrow.” She wiggled to the side of the bed, laughing at Martin’s expression. “Coffee! We need lots of coffee.”
“I had something else in mind.”
Christie swung her feet onto the floor as Martin followed her across the bed, missing her by a second as she stood. “Do you really want me to leave Elizabeth with so much to do?” She grabbed her dressing-gown and patted Randall as she passed him. “Good morning, doggie.”
“Elizabeth will have plenty of help today.”
“Well, yes she will, but there’s lots to finish off. Fiddly stuff.”
“Like making bows? Creating flower displays? All the things you thrive on?” She wasn’t coming back to bed, so Martin threw on shorts and a t-shirt and followed her down the hallway to the kitchen.
Dressing-gown wrapped around her, no make-up, hair unbrushed, feet bare, Christie was the most beautiful woman he’d laid eyes on. She hummed as she made coffee, until noticing Martin leaning against the door frame, watching with a smile.
She grinned. “Get used to it.”
“You making coffee?” He straightened and held out his arms. “Or how gorgeous you are?”
“Both.” Christie put down cups and went to him, sliding her hands around the back of his neck. “Of course I mean making you coffee. I’ve not even showered.”
“Yet you smell delightful.” Her lips were irresistible and he touched them with his. Time to stop. Before he couldn’t.
“I think you’re smelling the coffee. Go have a shower and I’ll start on breakfast. Most important meal of the day, so you keep reminding me.”
“Behave.” Martin gently turned her around and released her. “I love you.”
Christie returned to the coffee machine. “I will never tire of hearing you say so. And I love you. Very much. Now, shower.”
Randall wandered past Martin in the hallway. “Remind Christie to feed you.” The dog wagged his tail and continued to the kitchen. What could be more perfect than his life now? From the moment Christie arrived in River’s End, his life was changed. Their love was unbreakable and the future filled his heart.
***
Martha and Thomas sat at the kitchen table in the cottage, both deep in their own thoughts. A partly eaten breakfast was pushed back from each, and coffee went cold in forgotten cups near the kettle. Beside the sink, last night’s dishes were piled up ready to wash. The curtains still hung down instead of being pulled aside to let daylight in.
The phone rang, its jangle cutting through the silence and making Martha jump. Thomas reached for it with a short laugh. “Just the phone, bride. Not a burglar. Hello, Thomas Blake.”
Martha stood, then wandered to the key rack near the back door. She touched the skeleton key, now dangling from a hook, then with a sigh, returned to the table to collect the plates.
“No, it’s fine. In fact, give us half an hour and we’ll be there.” Thomas grinned. “Okay, twenty minutes.”
A plate in each hand, Martha tilted her head at Thomas, who got to his feet and took them from her. “Stop moping, Martha. There’s little bits of her here everywhere, like the key to the trunk, but what good is it at Martin’s house?”
“Who was on the phone?”
“If you’d like to have a hot coffee, Christie will be at Palmerston in a few minutes and promised to have one ready.”
“Christie? Is she okay?”
“My darling, she has only been gone for one night, and she’s done that before.”
“I know, but...” Martha dropped her head.
Thomas put the plates down and took Martha into his arms, holding her against his chest, where she rested her head. “But she’s not coming back. I know. And I’m every bit as sad.”
“I’m selfish.”
“Then so am I.”
“I want her happy. And Martin makes her happy.”
“Most of the time. He has his moments.”
“Like you.”
“What?” Thomas drew back to look at Martha’s face. “Oh, you’re joking. You are joking?”
“Anyway, we should be happy for them both. Together, and nothing is going to tear them apart. We won’t let it!” Her voice went up a bit and Thomas pulled her against his chest again.
“We won’t let it. Martha, nobody is going to conspire against them. In fact, this whole town is out there cheering for them and when they say ‘I do’ tomorrow, well, I believe it will be the happiest day not only of their lives, but of many others.”
Martha smiled against Thomas’ chest. “I agree. Deep down, I do. It’s just that it took so long for Christie and me to find each other and I am a little bit selfish.”
“Well, I’m a little bit coffee deprived, so stop moping and make yourself beautiful. There’s a big day ahead and I, for one, am looking forward to dinner tonight.”
“Of course you are, dear.” Martha raised herself up to kiss Thomas’ cheek. “Dinner is one of your three favourite meals of the day.”
“Can’t believe I left half my breakfast.”
“Perhaps we can find something to fill you up at Palmerston House. Shall we hurry up?”
“Not yet. I want a kiss. And then we’ll go and see the beautiful bride-to-be.”
Chapter Thirty-four
After a quick coffee whilst it was barely dawn, Trev had grabbed a bottle of water and headed out for the beach in shorts and t-shirt.
Three and a half laps of the kilometre-long stretch later, he stopped to catch his breath at the lagoon, pulling his shoes off to cool his feet. He dragged the t-shirt over his head, then took a long drink from his water bottle.
As he twisted the lid back on, he noticed a person at the very end of the jetty. Charlie. Trev picked up his shoes and wandered in her direction. He’d barely seen her since they’d arrived back from the road trip to his mother’s shop. She’d been amazing that night, talking to Elizabeth, Christie, and Martin once they returned from the hospital. Under pressure, Charlotte was the calmest and most coherent person he’d met.
One foot on the beach end of the jetty, Trev hesitated.
“It’s a public jetty.”
Without turning, Charlotte called to him. Shoes in one hand, t-shirt in the other, Trev wandered along the timber boards until he reached her side. “Hi.”
“Hi. Christie and Martin will have the best weather tomorrow. Look at h
ow clear the sky is. No sign of changing.”
“How long have you been out here?”
“Ages. I like sitting on the edge to read but needed to stretch.”
“So I ran past you a few times?”
“You did.” Charlotte turned her head to look at him, her eyes going his chest, where sweat still lingered on his skin. “You have a good... technique.”
Trev fought a sudden urge to gather her in his arms and demonstrate his kissing technique. Instead, he put the t-shirt back on, trying to ignore how wet it was in spots. “Thanks. Do you run?”
“Not unless I have somewhere urgent to go.” Her eyes were amused.
Or want to get away from me.
“You look like you do. Run.”
“Hot and sweaty? I’m teasing. I have lucky genes. At least where body shape is concerned.”
“What about the rest of your genes?” Trev wished the words back as the humour drained from Charlotte’s face.
“Any news about Bernie Cooper?” Her voice was strained.
“Charlie?”
She shook her head and walked away. “I have to get back. There’s a lot to do today.”
Trev caught up with her and adjusted his stride to match hers. “Me too. Need a shower then I’ll be over to help.”
She didn’t reply, just nodded.
“Bernie is long gone. Last anyone saw of him was one of Lance’s staff when Bernie picked up vodka from the bottle shop the day he hurt Angus. Sounds like about an hour later, so he was somewhere first. Nobody saw him leave town, but he’d already checked out of the motel when he went to Palmerston House.”
“How much vodka? How many bottles?”
“Huh? Why?”
“Can’t say.”
“Charlie, stop for a minute. Please.” Trev planted his feet in the sand. To his relief, she stopped as well.
“I haven’t worked out what I’m thinking, which is why I can’t say. I don’t know, so quit imagining I’m withholding some valuable information.” She’d put her hands on her hips and jutted her chin out.
“I was going to say I’d find out for you.”
“Oh. Thanks. Are you sure he’s gone, though? I mean... there’s something he wants from Palmerston House, so why leave, even if he knew you’d be looking for him?”
“He’s smart. Surely smart enough to know he’d crossed the line this time.” Trev sighed. “I can’t guarantee anything, Charlie. Wish I could promise it was the last we’d see of him but until there’s confirmation of where he is—”
“Which could be anywhere.” Charlotte began walking again, but not nearly as fast. “I worry for Elizabeth.”
They followed the river, passing through the rift in the cliff and making it almost to the road before Trev thought of something to say to leave things between them on a better note.
“I spoke to Mum last night. She said to pass on her regards.”
Charlotte’s smile was worth waiting for. “How nice of her. Has she... well, found someone yet?”
“To work with her and eventually take over the shop? Not yet.”
“She needs someone who can take on the chain stores and put her business online. Compete with the big boys by having the best customer service and all the hard-to-get books she specialises in.”
“Isn’t it hard to do? Set those sort of things up?”
“Not really. Do you think she’d mind if I suggested it to her?”
Nurture it, because one day you’ll want its shade and shelter.
“I think she’d love to hear from you.”
Charlotte gazed at Trev for a moment. “Are you okay? Does it make you sad talking about this?”
Somehow, Trev found a way to smile. “Give Mum a ring. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
She nodded, then turned in the direction of Palmerston House. Trev crossed the road, unable to watch her leave.
***
Sylvia arrived at Palmerston House a little before lunchtime, driving in with baskets of goodies for the workers and one very excited surprise. Almost before the car was parked, Belinda burst out of the passenger door and straight into Christie’s arms, barely giving her time to put down the box of decorations she carried from a van.
“You’re here!” Christie squeezed Belinda in delight. “I thought it wouldn’t be until tomorrow morning.”
“In which case, how would you possibly manage? Take now for example.” Belinda let go of Christie to gesture to Sylvia. “Mum couldn’t have prepared these delicious goodies for you all on her own.”
“Yes, I could. But you can help carry them.”
“We both will. Hi, Sylvia.” Christie kissed Sylvia’s cheek. “When did this one arrive?” She nodded in Belinda’s direction as she took a basket from the now-open boot.
“Only an hour ago.”
“Mum. In one single hour I’ve iced dozens of eclairs, filled apple turnovers, and packed a lot of these baskets.”
“And talked non-stop about beauty school. Here, you can manage two of these.” Sylvia passed the stacked baskets to Belinda. “I still blame you.” This she directed to Christie, but with a smile.
“Sorry. Not sorry.” Although Sylvia had originally panicked at the idea of Belinda moving to Melbourne to do a degree in beauty care, over time she’d become proud of her oldest daughter. Her anger at Christie for supporting Belinda’s choice disappeared long before Belinda left home.
“You might be once I mess up your make-up tomorrow,” Belinda, halfway to the front steps, called over her shoulder.
Sylvia put two more baskets on the ground and closed the boot. Christie grabbed one before she was told not to. “The decorations can wait because these smell so good. And I had no idea I was hungry until just this minute.”
They followed Belinda into Palmerston House. By the time they reached the kitchen, Belinda was hugging Elizabeth, and then Angus. “And I’ll set everything out buffet style so we can keep working on turning this marvellous establishment into a state-of-the-art wedding venue.”
“Belinda, I’m sure everyone will enjoy a break.” Sylvia relinquished her baskets to Angus. “Although there is a sink full of potatoes over there needing to be peeled. Perhaps something to keep you busy?”
Christie hid a smile at the way Belinda’s face dropped. “Why don’t we lay lunch out, let the others know, and have a quick catch up? Then we can work out what still needs doing today.”
“Cool. Yes, Elizabeth, do you want lunch in here?”
“Yes, dear. Just use all of the table and we’ll work around you.”
“Excellent. Christie, you go and round up the rest of the crew. I can’t wait to see Martin!”
“Yes, ma’am.” Christie grinned and headed outside, Belinda’s chatter following her out.
Today was flying past in a whir of activity and decisions. What seemed workable on paper wasn’t always right in practice, so she’d taken a step back to reconsider some of the decorations. Not that any of it really mattered, because in just over a day she’d be married to Martin. Christie’s heart filled and she hugged herself. Nothing and nobody would stop this from happening.
Except, where was Martin? After a quick coffee in the kitchen this morning with Elizabeth, Angus, Thomas, and Martha – and Thomas helping himself to a second breakfast – Martin had kissed her forehead and said he had something to do.
Since then, he’d been absent. Unless he was down at the pond helping the boys. The pond came into view and Christie gasped. A white arch sat atop a circle of white timber boards, raised by a step all the way around. John and Trev were in the process of placing terracotta pots around it.
“I didn’t think...” Christie blinked away sudden mistiness and swallowed. “Wow.”
“No time for tears, young lady.” John grinned at her and straightened. “It will be ready to decorate in a few moments.”
“Is Charlotte helping you, Christie?” Trev’s question was far too casual.
“She will. We’re about to have lunch t
hough, so come up to the kitchen when you want. Speaking of helping, where is Martin?”
The men shared a quick look.
“I saw that. Whatever is he up to?”
“Secret husband-to-be business.”
“Maybe I should ask Daphne—”
“She doesn’t know. So ask away.” John was pleased with himself.
“Belinda’s back.” Christie decided to change the subject.
“Did she bring food? With Sylvia?”
“Yes, John. And yes. I’ll need to let Barry know. Actually, where is he? Did you two do this all on your own?”
“It wasn’t difficult, once we worked out which bit went where.” Trev tossed his gloves into a pot. “We shouldn’t keep those pies and— I mean, Sylvia and everyone else waiting.”
“Go on. I’ll be there in a minute.” Christie smiled at John and Trev as they passed her. Then she walked down to the arch and stood in the spot where tomorrow she’d become Mrs Blake.
***
Concealed amongst tall reeds on the far side of the pond, Bernie glowered at Christie. All ready for her big day and pretending to be something she wasn’t.
He stretched out a hand and tapped each finger as he counted in his head.
One. She wasn’t the heir to Palmerston House because her ancestor cheated and stole.
Two. Nor was she as loved amongst the locals as she believed. Nobody was as nice as she fooled people into believing. Most people.
Three. Christie Ryan wasn’t invincible. She might have survived her boat sinking, but it didn’t make her some kind of saint.
Four. If she thought her future marriage would work, she was mistaken. Her groom wasn’t even here today.
He hesitated then tapped his thumb.
Five. She wasn’t safe.
Bernie opened a water bottle as quietly as possible and drank. He wasn’t a violent man, a criminal. He simply needed to put things right. Harry died because of her. And her kin.
Christie stepped off the podium and went to the edge of the pond. Bernie’s heart almost stopped beating. Her eyes were directly on him. He froze. Not a muscle moved as she stared at him. Surely she saw him?
“Oh, there you are.” Lottie appeared from between the trees, walking towards Christie.
The Secrets of Palmerston House Page 21
