Tree Change

by Cooper, Tea

  “Jake, I’m sorry it has come to this.” She extended her arms, her palms raised in a gesture of helplessness.

  “No, I am sorry. I am sorry I failed you. You’re right; it is better for you to do what you want. What you need to do. But please promise me if you ever change your mind, or if you need me, you will let me know. You know where to find me. I will be at the farm.” Waiting, biding my time, hoping one day when you have found what you are searching for, you will come back to me.

  He stood slowly, his body aching and his muscles cramped, the mere effort of putting one foot in front of the other using every ounce of his energy as he reeled away. Again.

  Just one more in a long line of people who had failed her.

  ***

  Cassia exhaled slowly as he walked away, the breath coming from deep inside her. Emotionally numb and physically spent, she couldn’t summon any reaction. She stared after Jake as he walked back to his car, kicking the cobblestones as he went. As he reached the car, she turned and studied the large container ship lined up on the wharf opposite, the elegant arms of the cranes swinging high above the skyline, reaching out to the containers stacked like matchboxes on the deck.

  When she finally turned back, the wharf was empty. Jake’s car was gone. He had left, and now she could do what she wanted to do. Look after herself. Be her own person. Organize her life. She had what she wanted. Why, then, did she feel so sad? So empty?

  ***

  “Cassia and I aren’t going to get back together again.” Adamant, Jake stared unseeing across the table. He realized there was no hope for them. Absolutely none. He had blown it; he had been kidding himself all along. The tenderness and passion of last night had simply been the result of two things: shock on her part, appalling lust on his. He had taken advantage of her sweetness and compliance. He didn’t deserve her, and he had no right to ask anything of her. He’d hurt her this morning again by disappearing because Maddy needed him. How bad was that?

  “Lyle, I don’t know what to do.” His voice sounded plaintive and pathetic, even to his own ears.

  “You’re just going to have to wait. Give her some time, some space.”

  “Wait? I don’t want to wait. I’ve waited for months, kept her in limbo. It was a mistake, a huge mistake.”

  “Mate, don’t say that. It wasn’t a mistake. You stepped up when I asked, and without you, we could never have achieved the right outcome. Those guys are going to jail for a long time. The operation has broken a drug syndicate operating up and down the whole of the east coast. They’d been at it for over five years. They’d made millions and wrecked countless lives. Just one of the dealers working for them was making over seventy sales a day, and it’s taken more weapons off the street than any amnesty. Think about it.”

  Jake shook his brother’s hand off his shoulder. He knew he was right, but it didn’t make his situation any easier. “I don’t want Cassia to go to Melbourne. I don’t want to go to Melbourne. I can’t live there. I rebuilt the beach house. And what about the farm? Cassia says I sold out. I did. I’m no better than a drug dealer.”

  “It’s not what you believe, and you know it. Get your act together. We need to work out what the best plan is, and then you can work on getting Cassia back, making her understand.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  It was late when Cassia staggered into her studio, her arms full of shopping bags. At least her appetite had returned. In an attempt to divert her constant thinking about Jake, she’d ended up walking around the farmer’s market, buying food. The only problem was that all the food she’d bought was Jake’s favorites. Now she’d have a fridge full of Stilton cheeses, organic tomatoes, and kangaroo steaks. At least she wouldn’t starve.

  She dropped the bags onto the kitchen bench and unpacked them into the fridge. She looked at the half-empty bottle of white wine and poured herself a generous glass, and then she dragged the chair in front of the window. She sat and rested her head back against the cushions.

  Two weeks of crying and moping was enough. She’d made Alan’s life a misery haunting the exhibition, and she’d ended up arguing with the lady in the multicolored kaftan who seemed to think she could knock up a little something for her Double Bay mansion just to suit her décor. No chance. She was never working at anyone’s beck and call ever again.

  She picked up the wineglass and took a big gulp, attempting to wash away the overwhelming feeling of misery and rejection still shrouding her like a sea fog. Her eyes roamed the room. A long, empty silence filled her studio. The room seemed huge now, unnecessarily spacious, lonely, and blanched. The block and tackle suspended from the ceiling looked like a hangman’s gallows, cold and forbidding. All the tools of her trade, everything that marked her as a sculptor, everything that used to be important, just highlighted her emptiness. The jagged teeth of the chainsaw were rusting. The floor was shiny and clean. No random pieces of metal or driftwood to spike her inspiration. She had no desire to work. Any inspiration, any creativity, had flown out the window the moment she’d told Jake to leave.

  She pushed herself out of the chair and walked to the window. Resting her forehead against the cold glass, she studied the patterns her breath made as it condensed on the pane. As she aimlessly traced the swirls, her mobile phone vibrated in her pocket, probably Alan with another client who wanted some interior design piece. She ignored it.

  Finally, her curiosity got the better of her, and she summoned the energy to reach into her pocket and look at the caller ID.

  Jake.

  Her knees almost buckled from the wave of longing rushing through her, but she shoved the phone back into her pocket with a determined push and steeled herself. She was not going to give in. There was no point answering. Even though she missed him so much more than she had when she had first moved to Sydney. She wasn’t even angry with him anymore. She just missed him. Missed the way he made her feel, missed knowing he was out there standing guard, overlooking the ocean. When he was near, everything was just so much brighter and more intense.

  Sliding her hand into her pocket, she twisted the mobile phone around and around. She hadn’t heard from him since she had told him to leave and that she could look after herself. He’d taken her at her word. She had said she didn’t want to see him or hear from him, and he had stayed away. So why was he ringing now? She leaned back against the window and pulled the phone out. The message light winked at her. Unable to resist, she punched in the answering service number.

  “You have one new message.”

  Right, one message from the one person she was trying to not even think about. One message from the one person she couldn’t get out of her mind no matter how hard she tried.

  Her heart beat in time to his message.

  “Cass, we need to talk.” His voice sounded low and serious.

  It was exactly what she didn’t want to do, and if talking meant seeing, then it was definitely out of the question. She didn’t want to see him, and she didn’t want to talk to him. She knew what would happen: the same as last time. She would crack. Fall into his arms like the addict she was. Cold turkey was just that—ugly and cold.

  “I need to see you face to face.”

  Truly, it was the last thing she wanted. His recorded sigh of frustration anticipated her reaction to his words.

  “If you get this message, please”—the pause sounded as though he was trying to decide what to say next, which was unlike him—”I’ve made a booking at Dancing Dolphin for one o’clock tomorrow. I’ll be there. Try and make it.”

  She jumped as the disconnection click echoed in her ear.

  “I don’t need this right now.” Her frustrated yell bounced off the empty walls, and she tossed the phone aside and covered her ears with her hands. She didn’t want to talk to him again. Not unless he could somehow promise the impossible. Promise he would never ever leave her, promise he would always, always be there for her. No one could honor such a promise, because no one could know what the future might bring. Sh
e knew only too well now.

  Motionless, a devastating emptiness blossoming in her, she stared at the mobile phone lying on the chair. After weeks of hoping somehow they could work things out, she had finally realized there was no way, no compromise, because she was asking too much, asking something he was unable to deliver.

  She slumped into the chair, and covered her face with her hands. She would just have to be brave, face up to it, and tell him. Tell him she had followed Alan’s advice. Her exhibition was booked for Melbourne, and she had found a studio. She would stand on her two feet, alone and independent, the self-determining artist she pretended to be.

  She combed her shaking fingers through her hair and twisted it back into a tight knot. She would go and meet Jake tomorrow, and she would tell him of her plans and tell him she was definitely going to Melbourne and starting over.

  ***

  Cassia turned around slowly in front of the long mirror. Her rainbow-colored skirt danced around her. This was probably her last chance to wear it. She couldn’t imagine wearing anything this bright and summery in Melbourne. She’d have to buy herself a new wardrobe, clothes to reflect her new independence. Clothes to shout self-determination, objectivity, and independence. This was pretty and casual, and a bit too comfortable.

  She squared her shoulders, flicked her hair back, and walked into the lift. She made her way through the door and down onto the wharf for the short walk along the waterfront to the restaurant. As she strolled along, she gazed across at the barges lined up on the other side of the wharf, at the reflection of the sun on the water, and at the incongruous backdrop of the modern skyline. She’d miss Sydney, miss the eclectic nature of the city and the huge working harbor. She tossed her head in defiance. Melbourne had plenty of advantages: great restaurants, great art community, great people, and best of all, no Jake.

  She kept walking, trying to ignore the flutter of butterflies dancing in her stomach, causing an uncontrollable queasiness. The chances of her sitting across the table from Jake and rationally explaining her plans were following the tugboats out to sea. Giving up Jake was hard, very hard.

  ***

  “I will do what I have to. I am going to sort out this mess. Cassia deserves an explanation.” Jake addressed the rearview mirror and shrugged his shoulders, trying to release some of the tension in his limbs. He’d been looking forward to this day for so long. Finally he could explain what had happened, but now that the moment was on him he was nervous. He didn’t know where to start.

  What will I do if Cassia doesn’t believe me? He brushed the thought aside. She had to believe him, because it was the truth.

  Driving onto the wharf, he slowed the car on the uneven cobblestones. It was as though he were on trial. The bloody judicial system had obviously gotten to him. He left the car with the parking attendant and walked toward the restaurant.

  The restaurant had been one of their favorites. It nestled at the end of the finger wharf in an old warehouse surrounded by loading bays and container terminals. The industrial environment seemed somehow right for their meeting—an urban nemesis indeed. He wanted to talk to her in a public place; there had been too much subterfuge up until now. Everything had to be out in the open. He ran his fingers through his hair in a futile attempt at control, straightened his shirt, and sucked in a deep breath. Also, he needed to be somewhere with a table between them so he wouldn’t be tempted to drag her into his arms and make love to her. That approach would not solve any problems. He’d learned after last time. This time he intended to take a cool, calm, and rational approach, and not allow passion to interfere.

  Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he hooked his jacket over his shoulder and walked along the wharf to the restaurant. He had to make sure Cassia understood he would never willingly walk away from her, and that the reason he hadn’t told her about Madeleine had been for her own safety. After the idiot had roughed her up at the studio, he had proof that he was right. His stomach still cramped at the memory of the danger he had placed her in.

  As he entered the outside sitting area of the restaurant, he spotted Cassia immediately. She was sitting on a bollard again. Her face was thrown back to the sun, her eyes closed, and the sunlight reflected off those unruly curls hanging down her back. He paused to watch her for a moment, to revel in the pleasure of knowing she was everything he had ever wanted—his soul mate. His apprehension vanished. He knew this was what he had to do, and this was where the last months had been leading him—back to Cassia. Now he was impatient. The waiter approached.

  “We have a booking for two: Jamison. Outside, please.”

  In an instant Cassia was by his side. Their hands brushed as the waiter led them to a secluded table overlooking the sheltered water of the docks. He smiled down at her and gave her hand a squeeze. She sat down, arranging her rainbow skirt. The thin straps of her dress emphasized the perfect skin of her neck and shoulders, and as she raised her head, he could see the slightest tinge of pink on her moist lips. She was so beautiful.

  Sitting opposite her, he rested his elbows on the table, drinking in the sight of her. Every stone he’d laid, every piece of cement render he had slapped onto the walls, every brush full of paint had been done for her. Would she accept his explanation and his gift in the spirit of love, or would she see it as another attempt at control?

  ***

  Cassia looked quickly down at the menu to avoid his gaze. “I promised myself I wasn’t going to do this, you know.”

  “Do what?” His laid-back, seductive tone made her toes tingle.

  “I promised myself I would stay away from you, not see you. I’m going to Melbourne.”

  “You have stayed away from me…until I asked you to meet me. What’s so wrong with us catching up?”

  “Why should I give you another chance to make my life miserable?” She wasn’t going to let him railroad her. She was going to be strong, independent, and determined.

  “Because I deserve another chance and I haven’t always made your life miserable. We love each other, and what we have is worth fighting for.” He smiled, and the dimples on his cheeks danced. A tinge of unwanted desire sneaked up on her; he had the same effect on her whenever he was near. Heat warmed her cheeks. She knew he could read her as clearly as the headlines in the Sydney Morning Herald.

  He had always managed to see right through her, to her deepest secret parts. It was impossible to hide anything from him. His blatant maleness made her doubly aware of her own femininity. The unexpected hardening of her nipples against the soft cotton of her dress infuriated her. She closed her eyes, praying he wouldn’t notice her traitorous body. Summoning the courage to look at him again a few seconds later, she found his lazy, sensuous smile spreading across his face. She closed the menu with a snap.

  “Have you decided already?” His laconic voice made her toes curl. “You were quick. You usually take your time.”

  “I’d like—” Her reply stuck in her throat. It wasn’t prawns he was talking about, she realized. He wasn’t referring to the menu at all. Her face got hotter as the waiter appeared, saving her from herself. She stood and walked to the water’s edge.

  “We’d both like the prawns, please, and…” Jake’s words floated across to her. Her reflection looked up at her from the oily water. She looked quivery. Not surprising, really. She was quivering, as though she were on the brink of stepping over the edge and into the water. The water would close over her head gently and wrap her in its cool, silky embrace.

  “Cassia, would you please sit down and listen to me? I want you to promise you will listen—no interrupting—and listen to everything I have to say. Promise?”

  She dragged herself away from the water and walked back. Not meeting his eyes, she nodded and sat down. Then she ran her fingers through her hair and pulled her blonde curls over her shoulders, withdrawing into the frame they created around her face.

  “Look at me, Cassia.”

  She lifted her eyes to his face, and her throat
tightened. She snatched a deep breath and controlled the urge to drown in his eyes. He reached his hands out and clasped hers across the table. The muscles and tendons of his wrists flexed slightly as his thumbs massaged her hands. Did he realize how sexy his forearms were? Maybe it was why he always rolled his shirtsleeves up. She concentrated on his mouth as he started speaking.

  “One year, eight months, and three days ago, I asked you to trust me.”

  She fidgeted and dropped his hands. “But—”

  “Cass, you promised.”

  Her hands were back in his, his grip a little tighter.

  “One year, eight months, and three days ago, I asked you to trust me,” he repeated.

  She nodded, her lips pressed firmly together.

  “I know it was a big ask, but I had to. As melodramatic as it sounds, lives were at stake.”

  She raised her eyebrows and bit her lip, forcing herself to keep quiet as she tossed back her hair.

  “Lyle came to me and asked me to look after Maddy.” She had no control over the low growl coming from somewhere deep in her throat. The skin on her cheeks tightened as she frowned. “Then she discovered she was pregnant.”

  She couldn’t contain it. The growl became a muted groan, and she pulled her hands away from him.

  “Lyle had been asked by the police to assist with a case, a drug case, and they hoped to put away one of key players in a cocaine importation racket once and for all.”

  She couldn’t restrain herself any longer. “But I thought—”

  “Yes, darling. I know what you thought. Believe me, you told me often enough. I wasn’t having an affair with Maddy. I am not Jade’s father, and I wasn’t throwing you over for someone else. And just for the record, I never wanted you to leave the Shack. It was your decision.”

  She drew a deep breath, and finally calm settled over her. She rested her gaze on his face, a face she knew so well. It visited her every waking moment, no matter how hard she tried to hide from it. She watched as Jake paused and rubbed his hands over his forehead as if trying to rub away the past.