A Wedding at Leopard Tree Lodge

by Liz Fielding

  She also cried messily and somewhere in her past had got so screwed up that she couldn’t talk about it, not even when he’d opened up to her about Lissa. He understood that. It had taken him ten years to find the right moment, the right person, someone who knew how to listen.

  He bent over her, touched his lips to her shoulder, murmured, ‘Sleep safe…’ before he tucked the nets around her, doused the candles.

  He normally slept naked and, since she’d clearly gone out like a light the minute she’d hit the pillow, Josie wasn’t about to have a fit of the vapours. But he’d been ribbing her all day about getting some action, had come closer to it than he had done in a long while. Now it was too important to risk her waking up and getting the wrong idea so he kept his shorts on as he climbed into the vast emptiness of the far side of the bed.

  And did not feel alone.

  CHAPTER TEN

  A well planned wedding should run like clockwork, but always be prepared for things to go wrong.

  —The Perfect Wedding by Serafina March

  ‘JOSIE…’

  She brushed away the sound, the tickle of breath against her ear, burrowed deeper into the pillow.

  ‘Wake up.’

  Who was that? Where was she? Who cared? It was dark, definitely not time to get up.

  ‘Go ’way…’

  ‘It’s important,’ the voice insisted and, finally, the urgency of the summons began to seep through to her brain.

  ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ she said, blinking to unglue her eyelids. Yawning. Stretching… Oh, shoot! ‘Gideon!’

  He was fully dressed, shaved, while she was… She was wearing a nightdress that had twisted around and would undoubtedly be missing some of the important bits.

  She didn’t look, just grabbed the sheet, glared at him.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I thought you’d like to see an African dawn.’

  ‘You are so wrong about that.’

  ‘Trust me, you’ll love it. Francis has brought coffee, muffins warm from the oven…’ He waved one under her nose so that she leaned forward, following it like an eager puppy.

  Certain that he’d finally got her attention, he whisked it out of reach. ‘On the deck. Fully dressed. You’ve got ten minutes.’

  ‘Or what?’ she demanded.

  ‘Or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.’

  Not a chance, she thought, staggering to the bathroom, peering at herself from beneath lids that needed matchsticks to keep them open.

  Coffee, yes. Muffin, yes. Then she was going back to bed until morning.

  She pulled a shirt, the first pair of trousers that came to hand, to cover her modesty. Emerged to the scent of warm earth, coffee and muffins, the air filled with the sounds of insects tuning up for the day.

  Gideon handed her a cup of coffee. ‘Sit down.’

  She needed no second bidding, but he wasn’t concerned that she was going to fall down. The minute she had collapsed into a chair, he produced a pair of socks from his pocket and said, ‘Give me your foot.’

  Then, as she responded without thinking, ‘What are you doing? Are they my socks?’

  ‘They were in your boots,’ he said, sliding them onto her feet. ‘You can change them when you come back.’

  ‘Come back from where?’ she asked as he picked up one of her boots and continued dressing her as if she were a three-year-old.

  ‘I’ve made sure nothing’s crawled into them in the night,’ he said, sliding it over her foot, lacing it up.

  ‘The only place I’m going is back to bed,’ she declared.

  ‘If that’s an invitation, you’re on,’ he said, the second boot in his hand. ‘If not, let’s go.’

  ‘Where?’ she demanded as he laced up boot number two.

  ‘To feel the fear and do it anyway. You can bring the muffin.’

  ‘I remember you,’ she grumbled, grabbing the muffin and following him down the steps. ‘You’re the guy who issues an invitation as if it’s an order.’

  The dining room was already buzzing with visitors gathering for dawn walks and drives, but Gideon turned aside before they reached it, heading for the jetty she’d been shown on her tour. It was where the river boat, due in later that morning, would tie up.

  By the time they’d reached a boatman, waiting beside a boat that looked a little like a cross between a punt and a canoe, the sky had begun to pale.

  ‘Dumela, Rra. Dumela, Mma,’ he said.

  ‘Dumela, Moretse. O tsogile?’

  ‘Ke tsogile, Rra,’ he replied with a full-beam smile. Then he turned to Josie, repeated the greeting. She looked at Gideon.

  ‘He asked if you rose well,’ he said. ‘You say “ke tsogile”.’

  She obediently repeated the phrase, then said, ‘And what’s the response if I was hauled out of a deep sleep by a man who refused to take no for an answer?’

  ‘It’s like “How d’you do?”, Josie. There is only one answer.’ Then, ‘He’s waiting for you to get into his boat.’

  ‘I was afraid of that,’ she said, looking at the very small craft. ‘Here goes the last of the Fowlers,’ she said as she stepped in, choosing the rear of two front-facing seats.

  ‘Don’t you want to sit in front?’ Gideon asked.

  ‘No. I’m good,’ she assured him. ‘I’ll hide behind you and, if we meet anything on the prowl for breakfast, it’ll see you first.’

  He grinned.

  ‘I’m serious,’ she said as he took the seat in front of her, said something to the boatman. ‘Don’t, whatever you do, smile at any passing crocodiles.’

  And then they were off, moving silently, smoothly through water turning pink to reflect the sky where tiny bubbles of cloud were threaded like gold sequins against the red dawn.

  Gideon said something to the boatman and he nodded.

  ‘What?’ Josie asked.

  ‘He thinks the rain will come early this year.’

  ‘Not before Sunday,’ she begged. ‘Tell me that it won’t be before Sunday.’

  ‘Probably not for another week or so.’ Then, ‘There’s a heron.’

  A tall white bird looked up as they passed, but didn’t move. Deer of all shapes and sizes, zebra, giraffe had come to the water to drink.

  Gideon named them all for her. Shaggy waterbuck, tiny dik dik, skittish gazelles. Pointed out birds that she would never have seen. Identified a vivid flash of green as a Malachite Kingfisher.

  Before she knew it, Josie was leaning forward, her hand on his shoulder, eager to catch everything. The zebra lined up as if waiting to be photographed, as if you could capture this in a picture. It wasn’t just the sight of animals in the wild; it was the scent of the river, the strident song of the cicadas, the grunts and snorts, the screams of monkeys overhead in the trees. The splash of an elephant family having an early morning bathe. The sun bursting above the horizon like the first dawn.

  And Gideon.

  He’d given her this and, as they drifted back towards the jetty, she laid her cheek against his back. Said, ‘Thank you.’

  He turned, smiled, responding almost absently to her thanks with a touch to the cheek, before crossing to the majestic river boat which was in the process of docking alongside the jetty.

  By the time she had showered, turned herself back into the ‘wedding lady’, the florist had arrived with a planeload of flowers. The photographer, with the hair and make-up girl in attendance, grabbed Cryssie and bore her away, taking the chance to get some pictures of her around the lodge, while she and the florist worked to create the fantasy bridal suite.

  By lunchtime, all the main players had arrived, apart from the groom and, as anticipated, she was soon fielding complaints about the lack of a phone signal from both men and women.

  ‘Problems?’ Gideon asked, joining her as she was being berated by one particularly irate young man.

  ‘This is ridiculous. I’ve got to talk to my agent today—’

  ‘And you think that shouting
at Miss Fowler is going to make that happen?’

  ‘What?’ Gideon had spoken quietly but, even with the buzz in the room, the man’s attention was instantly engaged. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded.

  ‘Gideon McGrath,’ he said, not offering his hand. ‘I own Leopard Tree Lodge so if you have a complaint, bring it to me.’

  Accepting that as an invitation, he forgot all about her, turning to someone with the power to help him. ‘I can’t get a signal on my mobile and I have to talk to my agent—’

  ‘After you’ve apologised to Miss Fowler.’

  The man blinked, clearly not used to being interrupted.

  ‘Or you could call your agent from Gabarone. There’s a plane leaving in the next five minutes.’

  ‘Gideon,’ Josie said, stepping in quickly to avert disaster, ‘may I introduce Darren Buck? He’s one of Tal’s teammates. And his best man.’

  ‘Really?’ Gideon said, without a flicker to suggest that he was in the least bit impressed, either by his iconic status as a football star or the fact that he was an important player in the forthcoming event. ‘That explains a lot.’ Then, ‘Which is it to be, Mr Buck?’

  Darren Buck, the hottest thing on two legs, apart from the groom, was no taller than Gideon and had an angelic smile that made him a Celebrity favourite, but he was built like a brick outhouse and had a famously short fuse. Josie held her breath as the reality of the choices he was being offered sank in. Gideon clearly had no idea of the danger but, as the two men faced off, it was Darren Buck who backed down, favoured her with that famous smile.

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Fowler. My agent is negotiating a TV deal for me but that’s no excuse for shouting at you. If I can help in any way, please don’t hesitate to ask. My apologies, Mr McGrath.’

  Gideon nodded once and, as if released, the man turned and walked away.

  Josie’s breath escaped like steam from a pressure cooker. ‘Have you any idea what you just did?’ she demanded, not sure whether to slap him or hug him.

  ‘Darren Buck is a bully, but this isn’t a football field,’ he replied, as calm as he’d been throughout the confrontation. ‘I have no doubt that you could have handled him with one hand tied behind your back, but I won’t have my staff subjected to that kind of behaviour.’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll be on his best behaviour from now on,’ she said. It wasn’t her that Gideon had stepped in to protect, but his staff. People he cared about. ‘But thank you, anyway.’

  ‘How is everything going?’

  ‘Fine. Cryssie has her bridesmaids to gossip with. The bridal suite looks stunning.’ She looked up as another plane circled overhead. ‘And guests are pouring in. All we need now is the groom.’

  ‘Does that mean you’re free for lunch?’

  ‘Theoretically,’ she said. ‘I’ll even share forbidden treats, but you’ll have to put up with non-stop pleading for email and phone access. Hiding out in the tree house isn’t likely to save us.’

  ‘I’ll get David to send round a notice,’ he said, ‘but in the meantime I thought you might like to escape this madness for two or three hours. Have lunch out.’

  ‘Lunch out?’

  No! The way her heart had picked up a beat warned her that she was already too deeply involved with this man. Cared too much. Was looking for him whenever she turned a corner, entered a room. Missed him when he wasn’t there. How had that happened?

  No, no, no…

  Then, as the incongruity of what he was asking struck her, ‘Where do you go out for lunch around here?’

  ‘There’s a place just along the river I’d like to show you.’

  ‘Oh…’ Of course. There had to be other places like this. Well, maybe not quite like this, but success bred competition.

  ‘I thought it would give you a break while everyone settles in. It’s our job to handle any queries.’ His eyes creased in that slow smile that reached her toes. ‘We’re quite good at it.’

  ‘Yes. I noticed,’ she said, fighting off an ear to ear grin.

  ‘Ten minutes? I’ll be waiting outside in the compound. Bring a camera if you have one. And your passport.’

  ‘My passport?’

  ‘We’re right on the border here. It’s always best to be prepared.’

  ‘Oh. Right,’ she said. It was only when he’d disappeared into the office that she realised that she seemed to have accepted his invitation, despite her determination not to.

  ‘I feel as if I’m playing hooky,’ she said as Gideon drove through the compound gates, raising a plume of dust in their wake. A touch light-headed, as if mind and body weren’t quite connected.

  ‘Is there anything you have to do in the next three hours?’ he asked.

  ‘No, but…’

  ‘You worked half the night.’

  ‘That’s par for the course.’

  ‘No doubt. But the next two days are going to be non-stop. You need down time. Am I right?’

  ‘Absolutely right,’ she said, laughing.

  ‘Hold that thought.’

  ‘Yes, sir!’ Then, as she saw a twin-engine plane parked in the shade, ‘Oh, this is the airstrip.’

  ‘Full marks for observation. Let’s see what else you notice,’ he said as he pulled up alongside, came round to offer her a steadying hand as she jumped down.

  ‘Er… When you said “just along the river” what exactly did you have in mind as a scale of reference?’ she asked.

  Gideon shrugged. ‘At home you drive out into the country for lunch at some village inn. Africa’s bigger. Here you hop in a plane.’

  ‘I’ve done all the checks, Gideon. Filed your flight plan,’ the pilot said. ‘She’s all ready to go.’

  ‘Thanks, Pete. Enjoy your lunch.’

  Josie watched as the pilot climbed into the four-by-four and, before she could gather her wits, drive off with the only transport back to the Lodge.

  She turned to Gideon, who was walking slowly around the plane, visually checking that everything was there, despite the pilot having assured him that he’d already done it.

  It should have filled her with confidence, but she was too angry to think about that.

  ‘Do you recall me saying to you that I have a very real problem with people taking over my life, leaving me without a choice?’ she said.

  Gideon looked up, frowned. ‘I invited you to lunch, Josie.’

  ‘And my passport? Where are we going? I want to know.’

  ‘You won’t trust me?’

  The way he’d trusted her last night, when he’d laid his broken heart out in little pieces for her. Talked about things he’d kept bottled up for years. That was what he was asking.

  ‘It’s not a question of trust,’ she protested.

  ‘Isn’t it? You didn’t ask where we were going when you thought it was just a ride along the river in a Land Rover. What’s the difference between getting in a canoe with me on a river swarming with crocs and hippos, taking off into the bush on four wheels, or climbing aboard an aircraft so that we can do in an hour what would take all day to do by road?’

  ‘I gave you an argument this morning, if you remember, despite the fact that I was half asleep. Even though you didn’t bother to mention the crocs and hippos.’

  She’d started to give him an argument about lunch, but he’d deflected her, just as he’d deflected Darren Buck.

  ‘I didn’t want you to be worrying about anything this morning. I just wanted you to feel the wonder so that when you thought of Leopard Tree Lodge you wouldn’t remember it filled with people like Darren Buck. Only the quiet, the peace, the beauty of it.’

  Josie knew she was making a fool of herself. That Gideon McGrath was offering her something rare. His time. A part of himself.

  ‘Do you believe I’d do anything to hurt you?’ he asked when she didn’t respond.

  ‘No.’ It was a sincere question and she answered it honestly. ‘Not intentionally.’

  He couldn’t help it if she lost her head, her heart…
Because she was very much afraid that the only thing she’d remember when she thought about Leopard Tree Lodge would be Gideon McGrath. That first heart-stopping smile. Standing over the kitchen range as he’d cooked supper for them both. Spilling his heart out in the moonlight.

  ‘That’s the best anyone can promise, Josie,’ he said. ‘You can walk around all your life trussed up in emotional armour plating in case someone gets its wrong. Or you can take the risk.’

  Feel the fear and do it anyway…

  ‘So?’ he prompted. ‘Do you want to climb aboard? Or shall we walk back to the Lodge?’

  As she drew in a long breath of the warm, earthy air she looked back along the track to the Lodge. She could scurry back there, hide away in her emotional burrow. But it no longer felt like a safe retreat. It felt dark, stifling, suffocating…

  When she’d been locked up, shut away, she’d had no choice but to endure. Learn to control her feelings so that she could be free. This prison, she realised, was of her own making and the only thing keeping her there was her own fear.

  She turned back to Gideon, waiting patiently for her decision. ‘Let’s go,’ she said stiffly, afraid that if she didn’t hold herself tightly together, she might betray just how big a deal this was.

  He was too busy buckling himself into the seat beside her, calling up air traffic control as he taxied out onto the airstrip, concentrating on take-off to notice one way or the other.

  He banked over the Lodge and headed east, keeping conversation to pointing out the sights as they flew over them. A family of elephants at the water’s edge, giraffe and zebra grazing together. A herd of antelope.

  She’d been too tired to take much notice when she’d flown up from Gabarone. Now she took in everything. The dark green snake of vegetation that marked the river. The endless dry bush spread beyond it. The occasional village. The astonishing sight of a town set in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere.

  And then, off in the distance, she saw a mist rising from the earth. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s what I’ve brought you to see. Mosi O Tunya.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘The smoke that thunders,’ he prompted, clearly expecting some response. ‘You haven’t heard of it?’