The Maxwell Sisters

by Loretta Hill

  ‘I got them from the tea jar.’

  ‘The what?’ Her voice broke off as fear paralysed her.

  He backed up towards the windowsill, picked up that fated jar that had once held all her hopes and dreams and presented it to her. ‘It’s all making sense to me now. You’re the girl who left that note in here, aren’t you?’

  She turned off the tap. ‘You’ve read it?’

  ‘Well, of course I have,’ he shrugged. ‘I live here and a man needs a cup of tea from time to time.’

  Her fingers fisted against her forehead. ‘What have you done with it?’

  ‘I haven’t done anything with it.’

  ‘But it’s not there any more.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ He opened the jar. ‘Oh, you’re right. I will have a cup of tea though.’

  He took a tea bag out and put the kettle on while her brain did backflips. ‘This is a nightmare.’

  ‘Well, yes,’ he agreed. ‘For you, I suppose it must be. But that’s what you get for trying to steal your sister’s fiancé.’

  She laughed, almost hysterically. ‘You would think that, wouldn’t you? But you really don’t have a clue about what’s going on here.’

  He poured hot water over his tea bag and drew up a stool directly opposite her, in front of the raspberry-covered crepes. ‘So tell me.’ He looked at her expectantly.

  She stared back at him, sitting there, all broad shoulders and rippling muscles, sipping tea of all things, watching and waiting.

  Oh for Pete’s sake. At this point, what do you have to lose?

  ‘Spider and I are very good friends,’ she began earnestly. ‘Have been for years. And yes, maybe I did at some stage develop feelings for him. Quite strong feelings because we were so close. But I never acted on them. I never told him about it. I was too shy. You see, I’m not very good with men and –’

  ‘Seriously? Because you seem to know which buttons to push from where I’m sitting.’ His eyes flicked meaningfully across her body and her cheeks blushed. Involuntarily, she crossed her arms over her chest, wincing as the brush of the charred fabric rubbed against her burnt wrist.

  He frowned. ‘You know, you could just take that dressing gown off. That sleeve is aggravating your wound.’

  She reddened further. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  The sleeve of one arm was burnt and smelly and it was irritating her wrist but there was no way she was prancing around in just Tash’s nightie in front of this guy. He’d probably ask her if she had the hots for him again.

  Some of what was going through her mind must have occurred to him because he smiled mischievously as he looked down into his mug of tea.

  ‘I wasn’t trying to be a pervert. I was going to suggest before you interrupted me that you could wrap my blanket around you instead. It would provide more cover than what you’re currently wearing.’

  She gnawed on her upper lip. Then, while he bent his head to take another sip of tea, she ripped off the dressing gown, dropped it on the floor and grabbed the blanket from off the counter. She flung it across her shoulders and pulled it around her. It smelled of soap and man and was indeed a lot warmer and more modest than her previous attire. She sat down on a stool on the opposite side of the counter.

  ‘Better?’ he enquired.

  ‘Much,’ she agreed. ‘But before you interrupted me, I was trying to tell you that I had to write Spider a note about my feelings because I was too shy to tell him.’

  ‘But you never gave the letter to him,’ he clarified.

  ‘No, it stayed in the jar and I came here tonight to remove it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t there, so I ended up cooking instead.’

  ‘Like any normal person would do,’ he nodded airily.

  ‘People deal with things in different ways.’

  ‘Of course they do.’ He shrugged a little too easily. ‘Some people go back to bed. Some people cook!’ Putting down his tea, he indicated the plate in front of him. ‘Do you mind if I have some?’

  ‘Why not?’ Sarcasm coloured her tone. ‘It’s not like you’re going to go away and mind your own business, is it?’

  ‘Oh no,’ he agreed, ‘this is all far too interesting. And that’s why I’m in town, you know, for the distraction.’

  ‘I’m glad my problems are so amusing to you,’ she glared. ‘Would you like some cream for your crepes?’

  ‘Is there any?’ His eyes lit up.

  ‘No,’ she said with satisfaction. ‘There isn’t.’

  ‘Now that was cruel.’ He pointed his fork at her. ‘And for no reason at all, when I’m offering nothing but my deepest sympathy. You and I are very similar.’

  ‘I seriously doubt that.’

  ‘Remember that complication I left behind in the Barossa?’

  ‘Ye-es.’ She drew out the word.

  His expression grew pensive. ‘It was a she, not an it.’

  ‘I figured,’ she sighed. ‘So what’d she do wrong, ask you to marry her?’

  He had already told her he wasn’t looking for a relationship so she had asked the question flippantly, intending it as a joke. She never expected him to say, ‘No, I asked her.’

  She sucked in a breath. ‘She said no?’

  He took another mouthful of crepe. ‘She said yes, we planned the wedding and everything.’

  ‘Oh.’ This stumped her. ‘So what happened?’

  ‘She never showed up.’

  They were silent until comprehension dawned on her and she straightened in her stool. ‘So you were standing there, in front of the guests, waiting and …’

  ‘Yep.’ He took another sip of tea.

  ‘Oh.’ She wanted to ask more questions but felt it a little rude to do so.

  She waited for him to give her more information but instead he said, ‘So you see, we’re not so different, you and I. Both suffering from a bout of unrequited love.’

  She snorted in a rather unladylike manner. ‘Oh, I think we’re very different.’ She reached over and grabbed the pan from the stove, tipping the scrambled eggs onto a plate in front of her.

  For starters, this guy could have his pick of rebound girls. Herself included if she let him mess with her head too much. If he was looking for a ‘pick-me-up’ after his fleeting brush with heartbreak and he thought she was easy pluckings, he had another think coming!

  ‘Listen, Adonis, I don’t think –’

  ‘What did you call me?’

  ‘I – what?’ She broke off in confusion. ‘I didn’t call you anything.’

  ‘Yes you did. You called me “Adonis”.’

  ‘Have you tried the eggs? They’re delicious.’ She swapped his near empty plate for her full one.

  ‘You know,’ he said, tucking into his eggs, ‘I could help you.’

  ‘Help me with what?’ she demanded, half-worried and half-relieved that her distraction with the eggs had worked.

  ‘I could help you find out where that note went. Make a few discreet enquiries.’

  ‘No.’ She was alarmed. ‘Don’t say anything, to anyone. Just let it be. Please.’

  Her voice was so anxious that he laughed. ‘All right, all right. But what do you intend to do next, Eve?’

  ‘Do?’ she repeated, grabbing the bruschetta, which was sitting at arm’s length, and pulling it towards her. ‘I don’t intend to do anything.’ She cut the bruschetta in quarters. ‘I just want Phoebe to be happy. I want Spider to be happy too. I’m at Tawny Brooks to be supportive.’

  He chuckled. ‘Really? What about Eve? Is she allowed to be happy as well?’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Of course. I’m just not focused on that right now.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound like you’re ever focused on it. I watched you through dinner last night and all you did was bend over backwards for everybody else.’

  ‘That’s what family is about, isn’t it? Giving and sacrificing for each other. Isn’t that what your family is like?’

  ‘Er … no.’ He scraped the last of the eggs onto h
is fork and put it into his mouth. ‘You know, I thought your mum was a good cook but she’s got nothing on you.’

  Eve smiled, lifting the bruschetta to her lips. ‘I do what I can.’

  They fell into a companionable silence, very much like they had intended to share this meal together. Part of the pleasure of cooking was watching people enjoy what she offered. She loved the way their eyes lit up at first bite and the enthusiasm that followed as they ate the rest. Adonis was a sight for sore eyes with all that gorgeous honey skin on display. There was not a droplet of displeasure in watching a man like that eat.

  ‘Well,’ he said as he drained his mug, ‘that was nice, Eve. In a weird sort of way.’

  She peeked at him through her eyelashes, wondering what on earth she was going to do with him. Here was a guy who now knew all her secrets. Not exactly an ideal situation, especially given his unpredictability.

  He grinned at her and, to her alarm, grabbed her hand. ‘Stop worrying, Eve. I’m not going to tell anyone. Why don’t we put our swords away and just be friends, huh?’

  She stared down at their hands.

  My life is a broken record. Another handsome guy on the lookout for a new friend. And who does he pick first?

  He squeezed her hand. ‘You can teach me how to be supportive and I’ll teach you how to have fun. Seems like you bloody need it.’

  Those gorgeous blue eyes were a gateway to destruction. Was she to forget Spider only to play the same game with somebody else? Spider had bled her emotionally for years without even knowing it. She’d been so there for him – most of the time at her own expense – and where had that got her?

  ‘I –’ Her gaze happened to stray to the window and her voice cut off as she realised how light it was outside. ‘I need to go.’

  She leapt up from her chair.

  ‘Do you want me to walk you back?’

  ‘No, that’s all right,’ she said quickly. ‘I’ve got my Barina parked out the front.’ She turned to go.

  ‘Wait, Eve, you never answered my question before about being friends.’

  She stopped briefly on her way to the door to look at him and, for the first time, the girl who had never said ‘No’ found her voice. ‘Thanks, Adam.’ She smiled. ‘But I’ve got enough friends.’

  Chapter 15

  Tash awoke to the slam of a door somewhere down the hall. Her first thought was who on earth was awake so early this morning? But she quickly lost interest in the answer as her body registered the arm draped casually around her waist, the breath wafting softly by her ear and the hard bare thigh resting behind her legs. Cocooned in an embrace so warm and familiar, it made tears sting the back of her eyes. She blinked rapidly as her heart rate jumped to two hundred beats per minute.

  Heath!

  She didn’t dare move for fear she might wake him and be caught in this compromising situation.

  ‘Good morning.’

  Drat.

  She cleared her throat but her voice still came out stiff. ‘Good morning.’

  She tried to move but the arm around her waist tightened. ‘Don’t go.’

  ‘Heath,’ she breathed, ‘I … I don’t think this is appropriate.’

  ‘How are you going to convince everyone that we’re happily married if you cringe every time I touch you?’ he growled, but abruptly let her go, rolling over to his side of the bed and sitting up. It left her feeling both bereft and relieved. Why was she so conflicted? A year ago everything was so black and white. Now things seemed … murky. She had many questions that she didn’t dare ask for fear his answers would hurt too much.

  ‘Look, let’s just get dressed and go have breakfast.’ He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Neither of us is going to get any sleep now.’

  She nodded in agreement. ‘You take the bathroom first.’

  ‘No.’ He turned briefly to give her a fleeting smile that made her breath catch in her throat. ‘I had it first last night.’

  In the end she was grateful to dash out of there, put some safe distance between them. It wasn’t like she didn’t have enough on her mind without having to worry about her attraction to a man she thought she had decisively cut from her life.

  What Heath had told her before they’d both fallen asleep was disturbing. She didn’t know what to think and was frankly eager to get to the bottom of it. All this time she had been mad at Eve, who now looked like the victim of a terrible attack. But from Spider? It seemed incredible that her sister’s best friend could do such a thing. And why?

  The person she most wanted to talk to was her father. The man who held all the secrets in this house and guarded them behind a disguise of senility. It had always surprised her how much everyone underestimated him. But now she too had done the exact same thing. When she was dressed she didn’t go back to her bedroom but went straight to the kitchen for breakfast.

  The smell of coffee and toast filled her nostrils before she spied her mother behind the counter wearing a rather old-fashioned yellow nightgown. ‘Hello, darling. Did you guys sleep well?’

  ‘Yes, actually.’ She was surprised to find she was telling the truth. Strangely enough, she’d had a wonderful sleep once it had claimed her. ‘Is Dad up?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Her mother nodded. ‘He finished breakfast early and is somewhere about.’ She pursed her lips. ‘I hope he intends to stay around the house today but it’s impossible to predict. Often when we’re talking I don’t really think he’s listening.’

  Tash popped some bread in the toaster. ‘You worry too much, Mum. Dad is just being Dad.’

  Her mother looked up sadly. ‘Everybody keeps telling me that but I can’t shake the feeling something else is up.’

  ‘Well, I want to talk to him this morning.’ Tash smiled as her toast popped. ‘If you like I’ll give him the third degree.’

  Anita’s eyes lit up. ‘That would be wonderful. Where’s Heath?’

  Tash concentrated on buttering her toast. ‘Still having a shower, I imagine. He should be coming in for breakfast any moment.’

  By which time she hoped to be done with hers and off looking for her father.

  ‘Is that woman up yet?’ Anita whispered.

  Tash grinned. It wasn’t hard to work out who ‘that woman’ was. ‘No, I don’t think so. They’ll have a sleep-in, no doubt.’

  ‘Of course.’ Anita’s airy voice had a bit of a bite in it. ‘The new beams for the restaurant are arriving in an hour. I hope they intend to be up by then.’

  ‘I’m sure they’re not going to skimp out on the work,’ Tash assured her. ‘Graeme and Patricia are here to help.’

  ‘Hmph.’ Her mother was unimpressed by her assurances, leading Tash to believe that this pettiness must be caused by something other than her general distrust of Spider’s mother.

  ‘All right, what’s up?’ She bit into her toast.

  ‘Nothing, really.’

  ‘Nothing?’

  ‘All right, something. But it’s not like I feel I should mention it because I don’t want to cause Phoebe any distress.’

  ‘O-kay.’

  ‘I mean, it is her wedding. It should be a joyous occasion. And why she should be plagued with Patricia’s complete inflexibility, I have absolutely no idea.’

  ‘Of course not,’ Tash agreed amicably.

  ‘Like those invitations, for instance,’ her mother flicked her hand. ‘I was very upset about those. But it’s not like I demanded they be retracted. No, I held my peace.’

  ‘What was wrong with the invitations?’

  ‘You didn’t notice the order the names were mentioned?’ Her mother blinked in surprise.

  Tash groaned because Phoebe had already told her this story. ‘Mum, no one is going to notice that.’

  ‘You really think so?’

  ‘Cross my fingers and hope to die,’ Tash promised. ‘No one will care.’

  Anita sniffed doubtfully.

  ‘So what has Patricia done now that you wish to complain about?’
>
  Anita shook her head. ‘Didn’t I just say I’ve made up my mind to say nothing? I’m not going to upset Phoebe with this. I’m going to hold my tongue for her sake.’

  Tash took another bite of toast and said wryly, ‘Martyr yourself for the cause?’

  ‘I will do anything for my children.’ Anita put a hand tragically over her heart. ‘Anything.’

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ Tash nodded in resignation. ‘I know you would.’

  ‘I would suffer gladly for your happiness.’

  ‘Mum, no one is asking you to suffer.’

  ‘But I am suffering,’ Anita protested.

  ‘Why?’

  Anita ignored the direct question. ‘I know this is not a Greek wedding – I’m not trying to make it one – but I think there should be a priest of some description there to bless the union. Not a Greek Orthodox priest because a garden wedding would be out of the question but at least a Christian one.’

  ‘What do Spider and Phoebe want?’

  ‘They don’t mind. Spider is not religious. But you know Phoebe believes in God. Why should she go without? It is quite late notice, so they are happy to go with whomever is available. Why shouldn’t I ask Father Christos from St Michaels in Dunsborough? He is a very nice man who I see often in town. Not at all preachy. He likes football! Which I think is quite scandalous for a priest.’

  Tash sighed. ‘And what does Patricia want?’

  ‘To ruin everything!’ Anita insisted. ‘She’s been in their ear about getting a Justice of the Peace, preferably an ex-high-court judge. She is quite determined to find one. Wants them to be as well respected as possible.’

  ‘Well that’s not bad, is it?’

  ‘Tash,’ Anita gasped. ‘You are breaking my heart.’

  ‘All right, all right,’ Tash nodded, happy to retreat. ‘I think you should get Phoebe or Spider to sort this out before you and Patricia start bringing out your cannons.’

  ‘It is not me, I don’t want to say a word. But that woman,’ Anita’s nod was brutal, ‘thinks very highly of herself. I swear, she walks through Tawny Brooks garden so the roses can smell her. You mark my words.’

  Just then Heath strolled into the room and goosebumps immediately broke out on Tash’s flesh. He looked wonderful in that freshly showered kind of way that evoked all sorts of pleasant memories – some of which were highly inappropriate for her mother’s kitchen. She turned away to grab the kettle as he approached the bench, though did not escape the subtle smell of his aftershave, which permeated the room slowly like a drop of dye in water.