In front of the sofa was a thick fluffy rug that looked like it was made to lie on. With a sweep of colours across it reminiscent of the heart of a bonfire’s flame, it looked warm and inviting.
‘Look, Mum, a piano.’
Tilly and the dogs were already at the upright piano that sat beside the inside wall—her mother’s old piano. She wandered over and pushed open the lid, ran her fingers over the keys, the rich notes ringing around the room, begging to be accompanied by voice and guitar once again as it had always been when her mother was alive and Barb’s brood would invade for a music night. The piano had been given a spit and polish too, the mahogany wood gleaming a deep, satisfying purple, winking at her conspiratorially in the golden light.
Flowers had been set on the table in the corner where they used to eat their meals and paintings of bush scenes were hung around the room.
‘Oh, Barb, it’s lovely.’
Barb’s face split in a wide grin as she rocked back on her feet and clapped her hands together. ‘The boys and I did it up a few years ago after the fires burnt all our cabins down. Renting this old place out after we’d done it up helped keep us going for a while until we had some of the cabins built again. But now all of them are finished, we don’t need it for guest accommodation anymore. It was looking pretty sad sitting here all alone with nobody in it, and I was wondering what to do with it, but when you agreed to take up the events and marketing job, I couldn’t think of a better place for you and Tilly to stay.’ She blinked rapidly and sniffed.
Nat put her hand on the older woman’s shoulder and squeezed. ‘Thank you. It’s perfect.’
Barb nodded and sniffed again turning away to gesture towards the back of the house. ‘There’s a good kitchen now and a second bathroom—an ensuite off the main bedroom. Flynn said nobody could manage with just one bathroom anymore unless they lived alone. And now, with the two of you here, I’m glad he did. I know young ladies need their fair share of time spent glossing up.’ Tilly giggled as Barb patted her hair and Barb gave her a one-armed hug. ‘Why don’t you go back there, Tilly, and have a look at which bedroom you want—although the main one with the queen bed is for your mother. The little bedroom upstairs with the dormer windows looking out to the paddocks and hills beyond is my favourite though.’
‘Okay.’ Tilly grabbed her bag from Barb and took off down the hall, Charlie and Farrah at her heels, Bos following a bit more sedately, the thumps of heavy steps telling them they’d gone straight up the stairs at the back of the hall.
Barb’s smile faded as she turned back to Nat, her light blue eyes too knowing for Nat’s comfort. ‘She’s a lovely girl, Nat. You have reason to be proud of her.’
‘I am. She’s my heart and soul.’
‘I can see that. So, what are you worried about?’
Nat bit her lip to stop it from trembling. ‘It’s been so tough on her. I just want to be able to put it all behind us and start afresh.’
Barb sighed, a furrow marring her usually smiling face. ‘Well I’m sorry to be the one who might put a crimp in that, but this arrived yesterday. I thought you needed to see it.’ She took out a letter from her shirt pocket, unfolded it and handed it to Nat.
Nat took it with a trembling hand, the address on the envelope starring as her eyes filled with a hot rush of fear-fuelled tears. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her eyes, although she didn’t need to read the writing to know who had sent it. She knew immediately from the colour of the envelope who it was from. ‘How? How did they know I was coming here? Before I even got here?’ She drew in a shuddering breath. Barb had only offered her the job a month ago. She’d already been in the process of packing given they had to sell the house, so it only took her a week to wrap everything up, pack the car and take off on their three-week driving holiday before coming here. It had all happened so fast, she hadn’t told anyone except her lawyer, and Sarah would never have told Andrew’s parents where she was. ‘They’re not supposed to correspond with me directly. They’re supposed to go through my lawyer. This isn’t possible.’ Her breath was a burn in her chest.
‘Calm down, love. They don’t know. It’s not addressed to you. It’s addressed to me. Flynn didn’t want me to show it to you, but I thought it was important you knew.’
‘Why would they send you a letter?’ Her hand clenched, crumpling the envelope. Not that it mattered, she didn’t want to read it anyway.
‘They want to know where you’ve gone, where you’ve taken Tilly. They thought I might know, although why they thought I’d tell them is anyone’s guess. They’ve obviously got rocks in their heads.’
Nat snorted, then covered her mouth. She really shouldn’t be laughing. It wasn’t funny.
‘Are their letters usually so threatening?’
They’d threatened Barb? ‘Oh, Barb. I’m so sorry.’ She wanted to feel angry, but all she felt was nauseated and tired. So tired. When was this going to end? ‘Andrew’s parents are angry with me. They blame me for what happened to Andrew.’
‘He shot you and killed your divorce lawyer. How the hell is that your fault?’
‘They blame me for leaving him. They say that set him off, drove him to do what he did and then suicide. They also say that I was a bad influence on him and made him worse. Not that they’d know anything about it. They’d ignored us pretty much since Andrew refused to go into the family business and joined the army instead. And when he was diagnosed with PTSD after he was injured in Afghanistan, they told him it was his own fault and not to come crying to them when he asked them for some monetary assistance because he couldn’t work.’
‘Those useless pricks! How could they have treated their own son like that?’
Nat shrugged. ‘He wasn’t useful to them anymore. He was damaged. But he made them take notice of Tilly and they’ve decided she’s young enough to mould her into the successor they want and to assuage their guilt for abandoning their son and making their own daughter run away from them. But I won’t allow her to be used that way. The judge agreed with me, which is when they started to get nasty about it. So far, my lawyer has been able to block their request for custody and take out an injunction to stop them from contacting me directly, but money talks and they’ve got a lot of it. They keep finding other avenues to follow the minute we block one.’ She took a shaky breath. ‘I don’t know what to do. One of the reasons we had to move was because I had to sell the house and everything I owned to pay for my lawyer and the fees involved with fighting the Garonnes and because of them, I couldn’t get a job. Somehow, they got in the way of every application I made, and no events or publicity firm would hire me. The only job I could get was at the local Woolies, and even with that, we were stretched so tight there were some days I didn’t eat. You can’t understand how much of a godsend your job offer truly was.’
‘Oh, my dear girl. Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you tell me before things had got so bad?’
‘I don’t know.’ She blinked rapidly. ‘I just thought I needed to deal with it myself. It was my responsibility, not anyone else’s.’
‘Oh, Natalia, you never learned, did you?’
‘Learned what?’
‘That we’re your family and we want to share in your burdens. Don’t shut me out, okay?’
Nat nodded rapidly, the thick burn in her chest making it impossible to speak.
‘Good.’ Barb patted the back of her hand. ‘How much does Tilly know about all of it?’
‘She knows about her dad, that he was sick and his illness made him do what he did. Her psychologist really helped her to cope, although, I had to take her out of school because kids repeated things they read in the media and things their parents said about Andrew and about me. It’s been really tough on her and we’ve had some bad times.’
‘Does she still grieve for him?’
‘A bit. It helps that he was away so much in the years before he got injured. She only really spent time with him in spits and spurts, so she’s used to him not
being around and, of course, death is such a strange thing to understand for any of us. I think it’s hard for her to truly understand he won’t be coming back this time.’ She looked down at the letter which was now a torn mess in her hands, bits having scattered onto the floor. She couldn’t remember having torn it to shreds. ‘I just hope now we’re here she’ll get a chance to be a kid again and to heal.’
‘She will. As will you.’ Barb looked around and waved her hands. ‘This place has a way of fixing what ails people.’
Suddenly, Nat couldn’t pretend any longer. She was exhausted and so tired of trying to pretend that everything was fine, that she was fine, so that people would stop looking at her with that pained worry in their eyes. Barb’s simple acceptance and understanding made something inside her break open and she burst into tears. Grabbing her into a tight hug, Barb stroked her back, rubbing up and down as she trembled, as the tears she’d desperately held onto for months, spilled down her face and onto the older woman’s shoulder.
‘That’s right, dearie, let it out.’
‘Tilly …’ she sobbed. ‘She shouldn’t … see me … like this.’
‘I think it would be good for her to see you like this, dearie.’
‘She needs me … to be strong.’
‘Yes, but she also needs a mother who is capable of crying. It will make her feel like it’s okay to cry too. Pounds to peanuts she’s trying to be strong for you too.’ Barb clucked her tongue. ‘Both of you trying to be okay when you’re really not is not good for the soul.’
‘But I’m her mother,’ she wailed, her voice muffled by Barb’s comfortable shoulder.
‘Yes, and you’re human and she needs to see that too.’
She gulped back the sobs and pulled away, swiping at her wet cheeks. ‘Her world has fallen apart.’
‘So has yours. You need to let her see that.’
Nat shook her head. ‘She needs me to be stable, strong. That’s what she needs.’
‘Oh, Natalia.’ She brushed her hand over Nat’s cheek, smoothing her hair. ‘I’ll tell you what I told your mother when she landed on my doorstep with her sulky and difficult grief stricken twelve-year-old daughter.’ Her lips spread into a warm smile, taking the sting out of her description of Nat when she was younger. ‘All she needs is for you to be the best you you can be.’
Nat pulled a tissue out of her pocket and wiped her nose. ‘Mum didn’t listen to you.’
Barb sighed. ‘No, I hope her daughter has learned a little more wisdom.’
Nat’s lips twitched. ‘I’m not certain she has.’
‘We are all works in progress, Natalia. There is always time for change.’
‘You haven’t changed.’
‘Nope. But that’s because I was always bloody near perfect.’
Nat choked on a laugh as Barb twinkled at her. ‘You’re lucky.’
‘Luck had nothing to do with it. I just knew what would make me happy and I went after it like a dog after a bone. There’s a reason why Bob always called me his bulldog. It wasn’t an insult. It was a term of endearment.’
‘So, you’re saying I need to be a bulldog.’
‘Maybe not a bulldog, but you need to be open to happiness.’
‘I am.’
Barb tipped her head to the side and regarded Nat for a moment with that piercing look that had always made her quail when she was younger, as if the other woman could read her deepest, darkest secrets. ‘I don’t think you are. But I hope you will be. And I will do my part in helping you there.’ She pulled Nat into another hug. ‘I’m here for you in any way you need—a shoulder to cry on, or for a hug. But most of all, remember I’m your friend and you can talk to me about anything.’ She pulled back but still held Nat by the shoulders, her hands warm and strong. ‘We all have those ruling fears you can’t admit to yourself, let alone anyone else. The trick is to realise you don’t need to face them by yourself. Okay?’
Nat blinked rapidly, the prickle of tears burning her eyes. ‘Thanks, Barb.’ She couldn’t say any more, her throat thick.
‘Okay.’ Barb stepped back and picked up Nat’s bag which had clunked to the floor when Nat had hugged her. ‘You brought more than this, surely?’
‘There’s a few more bags and boxes in the car.’
‘I’ll get the boys to bring them down for you later. For now, I’ll take this to your room and then check on Tilly. You take your time, pull yourself back together and join us when you’re ready.’
‘Thanks, Barb.’
‘It’s more my pleasure than you could ever know, dearest girl.’
Nat pressed her fingers against burning eyes when Barb was gone, took in a couple of deep breaths, in, then out, as her psychologist had instructed, and twitched her lips up into a smile. ‘Right.’ She slapped her hands on her jeans. ‘Time to look around and get this new life started.’ But first she needed to pick up the mess of torn envelope on the floor.
She’d picked up the last piece when there was a loud cry from the back of the cottage and then Tilly screamed, ‘Mum! Mum!’
She was halfway down the hall to the door of the second downstairs bedroom on the right, her heart in her mouth, pieces of envelope falling behind her like scattered breadcrumbs, before she’d even registered she was moving. She smacked into the door frame as she turned into the bedroom, wincing as fresh pain spiked through her shoulder, to be greeted with the sight of Tilly plastered up against the glass, the dogs pushed up against her.
‘Tilly!’ she cried, darting around the bed to where her daughter stood, quivering in obvious terror.
Then Tilly turned, her face alight with joy bringing Nat’s flight to an abrupt halt. ‘Oh, Mum, look!’
Nat was glued in place as Tilly turned away to stare out the window again, unaware of her mother’s reaction to her scream. She couldn’t let Tilly see, couldn’t let her know how much she’d overreacted. She had to pull herself together, but it was so hard when the sound of her fright was a loud roar in her ears, her heartbeat thunder in her chest. She locked her shaking knees, jammed her trembling hands into her coat pockets, struggling to breathe, to calm down. God, she was a fool. Nothing could happen here. They were safe. It was just the letter from the Garonnes that had thrown her. But they didn’t know where she and Tilly were and there was no-one to tell them.
A touch on her shoulder made her jump and spin, face reddening when she saw Barb smiling at her. Of course it was Barb. Who else would it be? Stop being such a jumpy idiot.
‘She’s safe,’ Barb whispered as she moved past Nat to look out the window at what Tilly was pointing at. ‘Oh, so you’ve spotted our newest arrival.’
‘He’s so gorgeous. How old is he? What’s his name? Can I pet him?’
Barb laughed, looking over her shoulder at Nat. ‘He doesn’t have a name yet. He was only born a few days ago. He loves to be petted—although, you’ll have to make sure one of us is with you when you do. His mum can get a bit overprotective.’
Like me, Nat thought. She’d stilled the trembling enough to walk up behind Tilly.
‘He’s so golden.’ Tilly sighed.
‘He’s a palomino.’
Tilly nodded sagely. ‘I read about palominos when Mum said we were coming here. They’re that colour because of a cream dilution gene.’ She said the last very carefully.
‘That’s right. It’s a colour signifier, not a true breed and there’s only a fifty percent chance you’ll get palomino colouring even if you breed two palominos.’
‘What breed are yours?’
‘Ours are mostly bred from Quarter Horses. Although we do have one Arabian Sire, Goldenrod, who is Flynn’s pride and joy. He’s not actually a palomino but has the colour characteristics and when we breed him with our palomino mares we have a good success rate of getting a foal with the correct colour signifiers.’
‘What about him? Who are his parents?’
‘His daddy is Goldenrod.’
Nat laughed. ‘Is Flynn still besotted wi
th Star Wars?’
Barb laughed. ‘Yes, we’ve got a Han and a Luke and Leia as well, although I put my foot down at calling the Clydesdale he brought home Chewbacca. Too much of a mouthful. We settled on Chewie.’
‘That’s funny.’
‘What’s the mother called?’ Tilly asked.
‘Starlight.’
‘Starlight. That’s a lovely name,’ Tilly said, her hands clasped together and her eyes full of stars as she looked out at the foal longingly.
Barb’s face broke into a big smile. ‘I think so, given I named her. We have a tradition here of naming our animals after actors and actresses and TV and movie characters and movie names.’
Tilly clapped her hands and Bos barked around her. ‘Ooh, I love that.’ Then she frowned. ‘But what are Charlie and Farrah and Bos named for?’
‘Charlie’s Angels. It was my Bob’s favourite show when he was still with us.’
‘I’ve never heard of it.’
Nat laughed. ‘It’s an old TV show and then they made a movie. Farrah was actually one of the actress’s names if I remember right. Charlie was their boss and Bos was …’
‘Boswell. Their kind of butler/handler/go-between.’
‘Ahh, that’s right.’ She looked down at Bos. ‘It suits him.’
‘Yes.’ She patted Bos on the head and he looked up at her, tongue lolling and eyes full of doggy love.
‘Can I go pat the baby horse?’ Tilly asked.
‘Baby horses are called foals,’ Barb said. ‘Or if you want to be more specific, a colt for a male and a filly for a female. And of course you can pat him, but only with an adult there, okay? Would you like to go and say hello now?’
Climbing Fear (CoalCliff Stud, #1) Page 4
