Caitlin's Hero

by Donna Gallagher

Even Riley was unusually motivated this morning. He had his swimming gear packed and was waiting for her when she came out from her morning shower.

  “Thanks for folding away the bed, Riles,” she said as she ruffled his hair. “Life is a fair bit brighter today, don’t you think? Did you and Brodie plan any mischief I need to know about in your hushed conversation last night?” she continued playfully.

  Riley just gave her a cheeky grin and replied, “I can’t tell you, because it was man stuff and you’re not a man. Ask Brodie. He told me you were his angel and that I should keep you safe until he gets back. He really likes you, Cate. I can’t wait to tell the kids at school. They are going to go nuts over this.”

  Caitlin shook her head and cautioned her brother not to say too much just yet. She really didn’t know what was going to happen in the future, but she certainly didn’t want to tempt fate by wishing for too much too soon.

  Just having Brodie in her life for a short time would mean so much to her, she reasoned. She’d deal with any heartbreak when it came. Heartache and tough times were no strangers to her after the events of last year. This happiness was at least going to give her hope that her future could get better.

  “Come on, Riles, let’s go swimming. You’ve got that swim meet coming up, and I think you have a real good chance of a podium finish again. You’ve been training really hard and the coach thinks you’re in top form.”

  Riley did very well in competition, nearly always standing on the podium, and usually at the top. That was why Caitlin worked so hard to find the fees needed for his training. Riley’s squad coach had offered her cut rates, but she didn’t feel right accepting charity when so many people were worse off than them. So far she had always been able to find the money. Next term’s fees were already banked thanks to the bonus from her extra singing gig on Wednesday night.

  Brodie James had even been responsible for that, in a way, as he had been the one who’d booked the restaurant and entertainment. He had touched her life in so many ways already, from returning the lost bracelet that meant so much to her to his thoughtfulness and generosity when it came to Riley—he had made her brother laugh and smile. And he had helped her feel happiness again, persuaded her to open her heart, a heart that had been locked up by the pain of losing her mother. Caitlin had not realised how damaged she had been. Sure, she loved her brother, but even that love was overwhelmed by her responsibility for him. Lately, she’d just snapped or nagged at Riley instead of giving him a hug. Caitlin decided that she would try to do a better job in the future.

  Maybe June had been right. She had needed to find a special someone to mend her heart. It had made life take on a sunnier sheen. That reminded her—she still had to speak to June regarding sitting with Riley on Monday night, so she and Brodie could spend some time alone. What was more, she was excited at the prospect of confiding a little about her wonderful man with June.

  Caitlin tingled all over thinking about Monday night, wondering what was in store for her. She was shocked at the way her body came to life at the mere thought of Brodie, let alone when he actually touched her. Contact with him physically made her burn with a fever she had never felt before, a hunger she knew only he could satisfy. Here she was, with her heart racing and her nipples growing hard. For the first time, she didn’t feel self-conscious about her large breasts. She finally felt like a woman.

  Caitlin was feeling so alive that she decided to swim laps while Riley trained. She didn’t even hesitate to leave the changing room, forgetting all about her usual insecurities with regards to her body shape. She did remember to remove her mother’s bracelet, and tucked it carefully into her shoe for safekeeping. It really wasn’t an expensive bracelet, but what she felt was more a sentimental attachment, and now it had even more significance with links to Brodie, as well.

  Caitlin strode confidently to the pool deck, climbed onto the blocks and dove gracefully into the slightly warm water. She found a rhythm easily today and enjoyed the feel of the water as it cascaded soothingly over her body, while she powered through lap after lap.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brodie sat on the bench, smiling, his legs stretched out, ankles crossed and his head resting on the wall behind him. He took a long swig of the Powerade sports drink he was holding and swallowed as he thought about the game. He had played well. He had led his team to victory and delivered a crushing defeat to the ladder leaders, Auckland. Brodie had made thirty-five tackles and nineteen hit-ups, totalling over two hundred and twenty metres. They were good figures for him. Hell, they were great figures! He’d probably played harder than any forward in any team this round, and he realised he still had a lot to offer his beloved game. He could outplay any prop, even the young pups coming up through the ranks.

  “That will keep those retirement rumours at bay for a bit longer,” he said to no one in particular.

  The locker room was abuzz with noise—players slapped each other on the back as they launched into another loud and tuneless round of the club’s song. Winning on the road was always a bonus, especially when the opposing team was such a strong one. Brodie loved the bonds formed between teammates, and looked around the room to see young and older team members celebrating as one. This was what it was all about, and he couldn’t wait to include Riley in one of these after-game rituals. He had never realised until now why the players who were fathers always grabbed their kids after a game. He had this mad urge to see Riley singing and jumping around with the others.

  Maybe Brodie did want to settle down with his angel. He could already see a little version of her with green eyes and curly red hair bouncing on his knee—or maybe a big, round-headed boy, wearing a small replica of his number ten jersey. As he sat there enjoying the fantasy he was creating, he noticed JT heading towards him. Something about the expression on JT’s face sent a chill down Brodie’s spine. After all the years he’d known his mate, he could tell that, right now, he was bearing bad news.

  Very bad news.

  Brodie grabbed at his phone immediately, concerned about his ageing parents. As he switched the phone from silent, he noticed that he had a number of missed calls. Before he could see who had been ringing him, JT sat down heavily beside him.

  Looking at his friend, JT spoke in a concerned voice. “Mate, you’re in for a bit of a rough trot. I want you to keep it together when I tell you what’s going on. At the moment there is an army of reporters demanding to be let in, but the team officials are holding them back until you decide how you want to handle this.”

  With that, he threw down onto Brodie’s lap a copy of a weekend rugby league lift-out from the Sydney Age. As he took in the photo plastered all over the front page of the popular pullout, he felt sick, even before he read the headline.

  Aussie Captain enjoys some light entertainment.

  Brodie James, all-around good guy and poster boy for Australian League, took time away from his so-called fundraising night during the week to spend private—or should that be public?—time with a teenage waitress/entertainer.

  As our photo reveals, she certainly entertained James in the car park outside the Ashfield venue.

  Mrs Lila James, who had been sitting alongside the Sydney Jets and Australian captain throughout the evening, was left inside to play hostess to the guests at the event. Mrs James, a portrait of elegance, refused to comment on her husband’s behaviour, but did appear shaken as she left the restaurant alone.

  When will our Neanderthal sports stars learn to show some respect for women? The league’s efforts to lift the image of footballers have been delivered another blow with this shameful display from one of the stars regularly held up as a role model to younger players. The only thing James was showing younger players was the age of the women they should be dating.

  Brodie slowly read the damning article, cursing loudly over and over. He knew this was a body blow to his career and wondered if it was one he could recover from.

  “What the fuck? Where the hell did this come from?�
�� he snarled, thumping at the graphic photo accompanying the article. It was then he remembered the flash he’d thought had gone off in his head that night.

  Had Caitlin set him up? No sooner had the thought entered his head than he brushed it away. The villain was obvious the moment he saw the name attached to the piece—the byline said ‘Jack Edwards’. It was all starting to make sense, in a sick way.

  Brodie didn’t know what to do first. His mind raced as he tried to take in all the ramifications.

  He felt some relief when he realised Caitlin’s name had not appeared in the article. The photo identified him quite clearly with his hands under her dress. He could see her legs wrapped around him, but only the side of her head was visible and she was in shadow. He needed to call her.

  And what was with the Lila angle they were pushing? They were divorced, for fuck’s sake! Yes, he had shown poor judgement by losing control of his emotions the other night, but it had been in a private car park. God, he hadn’t even slept with Caitlin yet! Well, not really. He was going to tear that dickhead Edwards apart when he got his hands on him.

  It was then that JT grabbed his arm, as if reading Brodie’s mind. “Mate, don’t do it. It’ll only cause more aggro. The son of a bitch will have you arrested, and he’ll have a follow-up story.” He snatched the paper back from Brodie’s lap, waved it angrily in front of him and added, “Anyway, this reeks of Cruella.”

  Brodie was surprised at how JT had read his thoughts, but surely Lila wasn’t so spiteful as to want to ruin his career? Then again, wasn’t that what she had been trying to do during their entire marriage?

  JT continued, putting his hand on Brodie’s shoulder, “So what do we do first? I’ve got your back, whatever you decide. Want me to hold off the vultures for a little longer?” He nodded towards the players’ tunnel, where the media were camped.

  “I reckon you should give Trev a call at Channel Four and clear up some of the misinformation that is in that rag,” JT said as he pointed to the offending newspaper. “And that young woman needs some reassuring too. It’s obvious you’re crazy for her and she’s been good for you. I like her. I think I owe her some thanks,” JT added with a big smirk. “You’ve got that James spark back and I’m sure as hell glad not to have to carry this team anymore!” Typical JT wit—never too far away.

  Brodie knew JT was right. He had some good friends out there, and he sure as hell was going to need their support now. As he picked up his mobile, it started ringing. He took a deep breath and answered.

  “James,” he growled into the phone.

  “Mate, you’re in it this time,” said the familiar voice of Trevor Hughes, the host of Channel Four’s Footy Forum.

  Trevor had been a good centre for the South Coast Tigers and Sydney Jets before a career-ending injury had forced him to pursue a new profession. He was a popular media figure now with a good sense of humour, solid knowledge and excellent TV ratings. Brodie had been a guest on the show many times, and knew he could count on Hughes’ help with this messy problem.

  Brodie gave an interview over the phone to Trevor, presenting his side of the story. He admitted to a momentary lapse in judgement, explaining they had been taking a breath of fresh air in the private car park to the rear of the restaurant when emotions had run a bit high. He pointed out he was in a relationship with the young lady who’d been photographed. Brodie could only hope Caitlin didn’t mind his publicly exposing them before speaking with her.

  He went on to refute any claims that he had deserted Lila, stressing she was no longer his wife and that they had, in fact, been divorced for two years. What was more, he fumed, there had been deliberate misrepresentations of the situation because Lila had arrived at the fundraiser with Jack Edwards, the reporter who’d written the article. Brodie admitted he had been surprised they had managed to get tickets, but it had slipped his mind to check out how that had happened. He didn’t really care, to be honest, whose money had helped to achieve the night’s goals.

  “You gotta believe this will all work out, Brodie, mate. The drama will die down as soon as some other story comes along, and especially now that you’ve cleared up any of the contentious issues. It’s got no teeth now—no one will want to run it for too long. You’re a popular bloke, and your fans will stick by you.” Trevor’s endorsement was gratefully received by the still distraught and angry Brodie.

  Once he had ended the call from Trevor, Brodie found the listing for Caitlin’s number and called it, desperately trying to think of a way to make it up to her for this mess. The phone line was busy and Brodie broke the connection, frustrated. He needed to speak to her now, before the rest of the world got their hooks into her.

  After a quick phone call to his parents, apologising for embarrassing them, Brodie felt a little better. On hearing the facts, his parents told him he had nothing to apologise for. His mum seemed pleased as punch that Brodie had found Caitlin, and couldn’t wait to meet the young woman who’d coped with such hardship over the last year. Brodie promised to introduce them as soon as possible, adding that perhaps he could take them all to Mia’s Restaurant, where Caitlin sang.

  Brodie continually tried to reach Caitlin, but all he could get was a busy tone. He wondered who the hell she could be talking to for so long, and was toying with the idea of getting an operator to break into the line when the painful possibility hit him.

  Had the press found her already? Oh, God—they would eat her and Riley alive. He had to get to her, now.

  He took stock of the situation. He was in another country, trapped in a locker room with a mob of reporters outside baying for his blood. Brodie, still dressed in his footy gear and dirty from the game, slumped to the floor, defeated. He put his head in his hands and tried to block out the sounds of his now continuously ringing phone. He felt empty to the core.

  There was nothing he could do to protect his angel, and it was entirely his fault. What if she never forgave him? What if she left him before they had a chance to begin? The thought was so agonising that Brodie roared in protest and pain.

  After a few minutes spent isolated in grim thoughts, Brodie looked up. He saw all his teammates, the Jets training staff and medical crew circled around, as if protecting him. He was surrounded by people who looked concerned but focused.

  “What do you need us to do?” Mitch Harris calmly asked. “We know that’s not what you’re like, Cap. That reporter is in for one hell of a whoopin’, I’d say, and not just from your mates. Your fans know you. Everyone knows you. We’ve seen you watching that girl for weeks now, and that’s why we gave you such a hard time about her. It took so long for you to man up and talk to her that we took bets on when you would do it. You’ve been like a different bloke these last few days, Cap, and I, for one, like the new soppy you.” The rookie had a determined look on his face.

  Brodie couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing. Everyone was nodding in agreement. So many mates—he was blessed.

  A throng of reporters, all shouting his name, broke into the room. Brodie couldn’t help but grin as he watched JT and everyone in the room stand, as one, to hold them back.

  Brodie held up both hands and asked everyone to calm down. He instantly had the attention of everyone in the room.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it seems I have some explaining to do, what with nearly being caught with my pants down and all,” Brodie announced with a steady voice. “I believe some of you may be interested to hear all the facts, and I am willing to give them right now—on one condition.”

  The idea for the plan had come to him as he’d watched his teammates rally to protect him. He had to at least try to help Caitlin, even if it meant making deals with the devil.

  “I have been trying to get in touch with the young lady who has been inadvertently caught up in this mess because of my inability to control my feelings for her. As you would well know, I have always been renowned for my calm. At the moment, though, I am far from calm. I’m imagining my poor angel surrounded b
y a pack of hungry wolves—I mean, reporters.”

  As a follow-up to that last line he gave one of his best Brodie James grins. He heard the gasps of surprise from everyone in the room, and looked over at JT who just smiled and nodded in approval.

  “Do you think you guys could give me a hand here? Can you ring your fellow reporters and urge them to leave my girl alone? Just for long enough for me to actually confirm with her that she is my girl, after I’ve managed to embarrass her so publicly.”

  Brodie finished his statement by giving the room a rundown of the facts just as he had explained them a few moments earlier to Trevor Hughes, holding out his hands to the room as if pleading. It was amazing to watch nearly every journalist, cameraman and photographer in the room take out their phones and start making calls. Brodie sighed with relief. Maybe it would be okay.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Caitlin had been making it through the weekend quite well. Okay, the very loud heavy metal music, courtesy of her new neighbour, had made sleeping difficult last night, but that hadn’t been the only reason for her restlessness. Caitlin knew that her eagerness to touch and be touched in return by that gorgeous man was the main problem. She smiled again. It seemed to be almost her default expression these days.

  She had joined Riley on the sofa to watch Brodie’s game, feeling excited and a little nervous at the same time. Riley had grabbed her hand and assured her it was okay, that Brodie and JT were the best props in the game—whatever that meant—and that Auckland didn’t stand a chance. She’d smiled at her brother. She hadn’t cared about the match so much as the chance to see Brodie, even if it was only on the television screen.

  As the game had concluded, Caitlin had managed to take what felt like her first breath in over eighty long minutes. Apart from a ten-minute break halfway through, it had all been action. Caitlin had cringed every time she’d seen her sexy hunk of masculinity get slammed to the ground by up to four other large, rough-looking men.