A Daughter’s Choice

by Lee Christine

  Julian turned on the shower, wincing as the spray hit his lip. He touched it lightly with the top of his finger. Lynsey’s makeshift icepack had reduced the swelling but he wouldn’t be up to kissing her anytime soon, more’s the pity. Over the last twenty-four hours he’d sensed them moving closer, but maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part.

  He washed his hair, soaped his body from head to toe, and tried not to think about Lynsey down the hallway. Instead, he propped one hand high up on the oyster-grey tiles and thought about the bastard who’d been driving around in a stolen car with pictures of her in the glovebox.

  What the hell did he want from her?

  A shiver ran down the length of Julian’s spine. The Mindalby police were going to have their work cut out for them. With a huge area to police and only three officers, their resources were stretched as it was.

  Julian pushed himself off the wall and decided to check all the windows before going to bed. Were they dealing with someone so hell-bent on vengeance over the mill shutting down that it was immaterial to them which Carter would take the brunt of their sick revenge?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Julian couldn’t sleep. The adrenaline that had kickstarted his fight response was yet to subside. The best he could do was close his eyes and try to relax.

  He’d been tempted to check the police car was still out of the front and that his house was secure, but he’d decided not to in case he disturbed Lynsey. Propping an elbow behind his head, he took some slow, deep breaths. It didn’t help. He rolled over and checked the time on his phone again. Three fifty-four am.

  A floorboard creaked.

  Julian sat upright, heart pounding. He’d lived in his townhouse for four years, was familiar with every creak and groan. That noise was caused by weight, of someone standing on the creaky board in the hallway. He threw off the covers and sat on the side of the bed, common sense telling him that it was Lynsey going to the bathroom.

  There was a thump as something hit the tiles.

  Julian vaulted off the bed and flung the door wide open. The hallway stretched before him like a dark tunnel save for the strip of light under the bathroom door. Heart racing, he raised his hand and rapped his knuckles on the door. ‘Lyns? Are you okay?’

  The door opened and Julian’s heart leapt at the sight of her in his favourite World of Warcraft t-shirt.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Face flushed, she hunted around the floor. ‘I was looking for some analgesics and I knocked over a large pump of sun cream. Oh, here it is.’

  She leaned over and scooped up the plastic pump, giving him a nice view of the back of her thighs in the process.

  Julian blinked in the bright light and tried to concentrate on what she’d just said and not on her shapely cyclist’s legs. ‘Analgesics?’

  ‘Oh sorry, painkillers?’ She looked at him hopefully. ‘I have the mother of all headaches.’

  ‘There’s Nurofen.’ He took a bottle from the shelf. ‘Will they do?’

  ‘Perfect.’

  ‘I hope they’re still in date. I rarely take them.’ He smiled a little, watching as she shook out two tablets. ‘Not enough brains to make a headache.’

  She stilled, a glass of water halfway to her mouth. ‘Don’t say that.’

  Why had he said that? Because of some deep-seated fear that he wasn’t smart enough for her? He pushed his fingers into his hair. That was the problem with Lynsey. She saw too much. ‘Hey, I was only joking.’

  She swallowed the tablets and gave him a doubtful look over the rim of her glass. ‘I don’t know how you can say that, when you’ve achieved so much so quickly.’

  ‘I could lose it all just as fast.’

  Her face fell and he regretted it immediately. ‘I’m sorry. This thing with the mill. I’m worried, that’s all, and now with this psychopath on the loose …’

  ‘Did you get anywhere with the bank today? I didn’t like to ask, you know, personal stuff.’

  ‘No, that’s fine. They’ve suspended my payments for two months. I’ve also pulled the builders off the ethanol plant. That will give me some breathing space in the short term at least.’

  ‘The liquidator’s report is due in any day.’

  ‘It is. The bank liked the fact that I’m involved with the co-op that’s being formed to save the mill.’

  ‘I did hear some murmurings of that on the grapevine.’

  Julian leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, uneasy at how Lynsey would feel about the locals banding together to buy out the Carter family mill. ‘Well, it’s one of the ideas being floated around. Nothing’s watertight yet.’

  Lynsey nodded, though her smile was sad when she looked at him. ‘Have you managed to get any sleep?’

  He sighed. She had more to worry about than his quality sleep time. What about the crap she was taking from people like Beryl at Joes Café, and others, while essentially watching her inheritance get flushed down the toilet? And to top it off someone was stalking her. It made his worries pale in comparison. And yet here she was, with a raging headache, calling him out about the chip on his shoulder he’d never quite managed to brush off.

  ‘I’ve been dozing on and off,’ he said, relieved she hadn’t pressed him to tell her more about the co-op. ‘Come on.’ He took hold of her arm. ‘Let’s get you back into bed. You look a little unsteady on your feet there.’

  She didn’t object and closed her eyes the moment she put her head on the pillow. Worried about a possible concussion headache, Julian pulled the covers over her and sat down on the side of the bed, reluctant to leave.

  She half opened her eyes. ‘Tell me what’s bothering you, please?’

  He could make a list from one to twenty, but he wasn’t the worst off in this town by far.

  ‘Right here and now, I’m worried about you, Lyns. I’ve had a couple of concussions myself. There’s a chance you’ll start vomiting with that headache.’

  ‘If you feel better staying, lie down on the other side of the bed. Here, I’ll put a pillow in between us if it’ll make you feel safer.’

  He smiled, watching as she dragged a pillow into the middle of the bed and closed her eyes again, this feisty girl who’d turned up at his depot the other day, hands on her hips and declaring we need lube.

  His anxiety easing, Julian stretched out on the other side of the bed no longer hoping that sleep would claim him. Tonight, he wanted to enjoy the unexpected pleasure of being physically close to Lynsey Carter again—even if it was only for a short while.

  He sensed rather than saw her smiling in the dark.

  ***

  Lynsey was burning up. Her dehydrated lips tingled and she struggled to swallow in her parched throat. Propping herself up on one elbow, she blinked at the shadows and tried to get her bearings.

  The electric blanket.

  Groping for the switch, she turned it off then rolled away seeking the relief of cooler sheets. And cannoned into something hard.

  Julian muttered in his sleep, kicked off the doona then shifted a leg so it straddled both of hers. Lynsey froze, heart beating hard, her eye level with Julian’s shoulder.

  So much for the safety pillow.

  Holding her breath, and with the minutest of movements, she shifted her torso away from his without managing to wake him up. But his leg was like a tree trunk, the weight of which had both of hers pinned. She knew the moment she began dragging her legs out from under his he would stir.

  Lynsey lay back on the pillows and let her eyes adjust to the pre-dawn light. The painkillers had worked their magic, and after two hours’ sleep she was wide awake. Not so Julian. He was lying flat on his back, his breathing quiet and even. At some point he’d discarded his t-shirt, sleeping in nothing but a pair of blue boxer shorts. Lynsey stared at the tattoo outlined on his left shoulder, fingers itching to trace the Viking pattern, the only part she hadn’t seen before. It swirled around the cap of his shoulder, a shoulder so much broader than when he’d been a rangy teenager. Lynsey r
an her eyes over his slim hips and strong legs, searching for any other tattoos, but the rest of his golden olive skin was smooth and unmarked. The single half sleeve was the extent of it.

  Lynsey stared at the smattering of black hair curling on his chest. Thankfully, Julian hadn’t turned into one of those guys who liked to wax off every bit of body hair. She winced and wriggled her numb toes. If his leg wasn’t cutting off the circulation in her feet she’d be tempted to stay right where she was.

  His muscles went rigid and he raised his head off the pillow. Lynsey tensed, waiting as he turned his head and looked at her through sleepy eyes. ‘Morning. I—er.’ She tried tugging her legs out from under his left one.

  ‘Oh God, sorry.’ He shifted his leg and propped himself up on his elbows. Lynsey scooted across the mattress putting a respectable distance between them.

  ‘I tried not to wake you but my legs were going to sleep.’

  ‘I don’t know how that happened.’ He raked his hair back from his face and turned on his side. ‘Oh. You must have tossed the pillow out in your haste to get to my body.’

  Lynsey’s mouth fell open. ‘As if! You left the electric blanket on high. I just about slow cooked.’

  He chuckled then reached out his free hand to help massage the ankle she’d been rubbing in an effort to get the feeling back. His hand brushed hers but it didn’t deter him. He moved it over her shin and continued massaging. Lynsey’s skin tingled beneath his warm hand, her body tensing as strong fingers moved to the back of her leg.

  ‘Cyclist’s calves,’ he said, using his thumb to knead her muscle. ‘Hard … hot.’

  Desire shot all the way to Lynsey’s core and it was all she could do not to close her eyes and sigh. She lay back on the pillows, revelling in the fire building inside and silently willing his hand to move upwards.

  ‘Higher,’ she whispered on a breath.

  He stilled, a hungry fire burning in his eyes. ‘I’m dying a slow death here, Lynsey, so close and yet unable to kiss you.’

  He was at a disadvantage, propped on one elbow as he was. Lynsey drew her legs underneath her and with one firm push against his shoulder set him on his back. Before he could recover she straddled him, her heart soaring as he brought his hands up to span her waist. ‘Then let me kiss you.’

  ‘Wait.’

  Lynsey froze. Was he going to stop her?

  She held her breath as he let go of her waist and cupped her face. ‘Despite everything that’s happened, how good is this, Lyns? You and me. Together again.’

  ‘I used to dream of it,’ she spoke around the lump in her throat. ‘And then I’d give myself a stern talking to and try banishing you from my mind.’

  His eyes never left hers, his thumbs gentle as they stroked her cheeks. ‘Did it work?’

  ‘Not always.’

  A slow smile curved his lips and she smiled back, breathless at the joy shining in his eyes.

  He brought his hands back to her waist again and shifted his hips, hunger flaring in his eyes as she gasped at the hardness of his erection. ‘My mouth is the number one weapon in my arsenal.’ He sucked air between his teeth as she started to rock. ‘And … I can’t … use it on you. It’s killing me.’

  Lynsey slid down on top of him, filling her lungs with his scent, fingers reacquainting themselves with his powerful biceps. ‘Leave the mouth for now, Julian.’ She pressed wet kisses against his neck, moaning as strong fingers plunged into her hair to massage her scalp. ‘Believe me, after all these years, your mouth is not the weapon I need right now.’

  His chest rose and fell in silent laughter, and then Lynsey was on her back and he was moving over the top of her.

  She closed her eyes—closed her arms around the man who’d first captured her heart, the man she would love for a lifetime.

  Finally!

  After all these years—she was finally home.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The locals wouldn’t have expected to see Bonnie’s Country Threads closed on what was normally Mindalby’s busiest trading day, and most people would rightly assume it had something to do with the mill.

  As Lynsey switched off the ignition outside her mother’s shop there was barely a soul to be seen. Foot traffic was light, giving the town an abandoned feeling as though half the population had already packed up and left, and the other half were gathered elsewhere. Many would be manning the picket line. Others would be caught up with unavoidable routines, taking children to Saturday sport and filling trolleys at the supermarket as though nothing had changed. With few likely to be buying clothes, her mother wouldn’t need to worry about the shop being closed that day.

  Veronica unlocked the front door, and Lynsey held it open while Julian brought the boxes in from the Camry. Once they were all inside, Lynsey locked the door and checked that the sign was turned to ‘Closed’.

  ‘Bring them through to the lunch room please, Julian.’ Veronica beckoned him past the racks of winter clothes and the fitting rooms with their cream and gold privacy curtains.

  Lynsey followed as he stacked the boxes in a corner of the back room. The space was small, housing only a sink and a small dining table where the staff took their breaks. ‘I think we should keep the lights off, Mum. People might think we’re open.’

  ‘Good idea. We’ll stay out here until the others arrive. Would anyone like a cup of tea or coffee while we wait?’

  ‘Julian?’ Lynsey quirked an eyebrow, wondering if her mother would pick up on any body language and read the heat between the two of them. Her mum had a keen intuition for that kind of thing.

  ‘I’ll pass, thanks. I might have to stick to cold drinks for a while.’

  ‘Oh, of course, silly me. That lip looks very sore, Julian,’ Veronica said. ‘There’s juice in the fridge but that might sting.’

  Lynsey sighed. ‘Don’t fuss, Mum. We’re okay. Let’s just settle down and get this over with.’

  ‘I’m all worked up about that maniac trying to run you two off the road.’ Veronica filled the kettle with water then set it back down. ‘I keep trying to work out who it might be. That Cody Nossiter’s very vocal, always stirring up the workers. At least we know it wasn’t your father.’

  ‘Yes, you can vouch for that. I still can’t believe you confronted him, Mum. It was downright dangerous.’

  ‘Oh, he had it coming.’ Her mother waved a dismissive hand as though she went around smashing windows with a wrench every day.

  Lynsey shook her head in disbelief. ‘I can’t picture it. I’m sorry, Mum, but what were you thinking?’

  ‘Come on, Lyns, leave it now,’ Julian said gently, exchanging an amused glance with her mother.

  ‘Yes, don’t keep going on about it, Lynsey.’ Her mother patted her on the forearm.

  ‘I’m not going on about it—I’m trying to understand what possessed you to put yourself in danger like that.’

  ‘Stop worrying,’ Julian chided gently. ‘I think your mother’s proven she can look after herself.’

  ‘When she carries a wrench.’

  ‘Hey.’ Julian reached out and caught her hand, drawing her against his chest. ‘It’s alright. Your mum’s alright. Just chill out.’

  A bone-weary tiredness came over Lynsey and she rested her head on his chest, no longer caring that her mother would see they were close again. She listened to his steady heartbeat, the wool of his sweater soft against her cheek.

  ‘Lynsey, darling.’ Her mother’s hand joined Julian’s in rubbing comforting circles around her back. ‘I’m taking you to the doctor’s after we’ve finished here.’

  Lynsey gave a nod. She suspected there was some kind of silent communication going on over her head but she was too exhausted to care. She’d woken up after two hours’ sleep, refreshed enough to make love to Julian. But now the painkillers had worn off and all she wanted to do was sleep.

  There was a sharp rap on the front door.

  Lynsey jumped and stepped away from Julian.

 
‘It’s Penny.’ Her mother was peering into the shop. ‘And the liquidators are right behind. Oh good, everyone’s here.’ Her mother rushed out of the room to open the door and soon the small area at the back of the shop was filled with people.

  Penny Fordham was dressed casually in pants, a long-sleeved t-shirt and a navy pin-striped blazer. She grasped Lynsey’s hand in a firm handshake then turned to Julian. ‘I know your face,’ she said as her hand disappeared inside his.

  David Gresham peered at Lynsey from behind his heavy-rimmed glasses and murmured, ‘Nice to see you again.’ He turned to the lady standing beside him with a jolly round face that seemed at odds with her job as administrator. ‘This is Felicity Robinson. Felicity, I’d like you to meet Lynsey Carter and her mother Veronica.’

  Another round of introductions were made, and then finally Penny got down to business. ‘As you are aware, my client, Veronica Carter, has been in possession of certain records pertaining to the running of the Mindalby Cotton Company. These records are from a number of years ago. In handing the records over, it is understood that our client has never been involved with the day-to-day running of the mill or the mill’s finances at any time including during the time of her marriage to her former husband. These records are the property of Donald Carter, and while he believed the records to have been destroyed he learned yesterday that they are still in existence.’

  Lynsey stared at the cream tiled floor and blinked back the tears. For as long as she could remember she’d yearned for a closer bond with her father, at first pushing him to do things with her because she’d craved his attention. When he’d left home, she’d questioned herself. Was she not pretty enough, interesting enough, sweet enough to deserve her father’s love? Or was she just a difficult teenager? But it hadn’t been her. Donald Carter was the problem child, and no matter how much she wanted his affection, she’d never mean as much to her father as she’d meant to her lovely Grandpa Henry. And certainly not after today, when this meeting signalled an informal divorce between father and daughter.