by Helene Young
‘Let’s hope so. I’d hate to lose him now.’
Noah’s grin was sudden and surprising. ‘It just about killed me. I thought I was going to drown you pulling you in. When Roger said the third one was a block of flats heading for us, I couldn’t even look.’
‘Well, you did good, my friend.’ She managed a half smile. ‘Let’s hope there was no one else onboard that yacht because it will be in a million pieces by now.’
‘Yeah. The boys are patrolling the point. Hope none of them falls down and breaks a leg in this weather.’
‘No more rescues tonight, thanks.’ She sat back on her heels and ran her hand down her spine, feeling the bruising. She figured she’d be black and blue tomorrow, and judging from the sting of salt water, she’d even lost some skin. A shame there was no one waiting at home to help dress the wounds.
Noah interrupted her thoughts. ‘You sure you’re okay? I dragged you over the board in a bloody hurry. No time to be gentle.’
‘What’re a few bruises between friends?’
‘One of you want to get the lines? We’re there,’ Roger called.
‘Stay with your man,’ Noah said, gesturing to the yachtsman. ‘I’ll do this.’
My man. Darcy didn’t look up, but the thought settled in her chest and she smoothed his hair back again. She knew it went with the territory, that a rescuer felt something akin to ownership of the person they’d rescued. This bedraggled man with his handsome jaw carried a part of her with him wherever his journey took him from here.
‘Live, please live,’ she whispered. ‘I might believe in miracles again, if you do.’
She stayed beside him stroking his head until the paramedics clambered aboard and took charge.
A swarm of people descended on them, helping hands to tidy the boat, mop out the water, pick up the scattered pieces of equipment. Steve thrust a mug of hot chocolate in Darcy’s hands as soon as she walked inside. It warmed her stomach, but not the chill in her heart. She barely heard the voices around her as order was gradually restored.
Darcy felt flat, deflated, as the adrenalin left her body. Too many memories here and now.
‘I’ll take you home. You’re dead on your feet.’ Noah’s arm came around her, his breath warm against her cheek.
‘Thanks. I’m fading.’
‘Faded.
‘Pedantic.’
‘Honest. Come on.’
He gathered her gear under his arm and it was only when she saw him wince that she wondered at the toll the evening had taken on him.
‘I need to say goodbye to Roger.’
‘He’s outside.’
And he was, leaning against his car talking to Lana.
‘Guys, great job.’ He looked grey with fatigue. ‘Don’t want to try that again.’
‘At least not without you at the helm. Thanks, Roger.’ Darcy leant in and gave him a hug, pressing a quick kiss to his lined cheek. He smelt of diesel and sweat. ‘I knew you’d sort it out.’
Noah and Roger clasped hands, slapped shoulders. No words, just a nod and then Darcy felt Noah’s hand on the small of her back.
‘Come on, mate. Let’s get you home.’
She allowed him to steer her to the patrol car. Her feet were heavy, her limbs tight, the predictable aftermath of such a huge ordeal.
‘We got him, Darcy. We didn’t let go.’
Silence wrapped around them in the cocoon of the car. Nothing else needed to be said right now.
2
Gypsy greeted Darcy and Noah with excited nips as they opened the door. ‘Down, Gypsy,’ Noah said. ‘Good girl.’ The dog sank to her haunches, tail dusting the floor. She’d been the pick of the litter produced by the bitch on his parents’ dairy farm. Noah had suggested that Major would get a new lease of life with a pup around. It worked and Gypsy looked out for her old mate, who staggered to his feet as they arrived.
Noah pushed the door wider and Darcy traipsed in, her footsteps heavy. ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ he said. Noah had been a regular visitor since Darcy had moved in. The cottage had belonged to an old family friend who’d passed away leaving it to fall into disrepair. Noah knew the place would be perfect for Darcy. The old lady had been a gentle soul with a warm heart and healing hands who’d dispensed herbal remedies for many years. Her spirit lingered in the little dwelling. Darcy had fallen in love with it at first sight.
‘Did you eat tonight?’ he called out, hearing her wrangle her way out of her wetsuit. Desire arced through him. Enough! He turned his concentration back to the empty fridge in front of him. They say that plumbers have the most leaking taps in their house. Judging by the dearth of ingredients in the pristine stainless fridge, chefs don’t cook at home.
‘No, I was planning on having leftovers at the shop. Someone interrupted me,’ she called. He eyed off the dozen eggs and sniffed a block of hard cheese.
‘You want me to scramble some eggs?’
She came out of the bathroom in an elegant dressing gown with ‘DD’ embroidered on the left breast. He must have stared.
‘Yes, I know, not my normal style, but surprisingly comfortable.’ She tossed him a half grin and headed for her bedroom.
‘Gift from lover-boy, hey,’ he muttered to Major who’d slumped by the table with a grunt. Dylan, the leader of a brat pack of futures traders in Sydney, had made a constant pun about them being D squared. ‘Greater than the sum of the individuals,’ he used to say, a possessive arm around Darcy. Noah would get lockjaw from holding onto his temper. How could Darcy have failed to see she’d been a trophy – the up-and-coming funky chef with a stellar future ahead of her? Dylan may have provided her with the start-up capital for Duo – even the name was a way of owning her – but ultimately his terms and conditions were too onerous.
Noah had a moment of spiteful triumph when Darcy rang to say she was returning to the Cove, but her deep sorrow when she arrived home had made him feel ashamed. Despite still hurting from losing the restaurant she’d worked so hard for, she’d rolled up her sleeves and taken over the run-down chippie. She’d poured all her grief into fitting out Whale Song.
It had come as a complete surprise to Noah to find out Darcy’s mother was ill, but Beverley Fletcher was renowned for her stiff upper lip and stand-offish attitude. It was no secret that mother and daughter hadn’t being close since Darcy stormed out of home before she’d finished school, but he’d never doubted that Darcy still loved her mother. It didn’t surprise him that she’d moved back to support her. Whatever the catalyst, he was happy to have Darcy home.
Noah closed the fridge door. He was starving and his own fridge wouldn’t look any better except there’d be beer instead of wine. At least the orange juice was fresh here.
‘Move aside, Sergeant, unless you’re planning on arresting me for failing to keep a full pantry,’ Darcy said, reaching around him to open the fridge. She’d swapped the dressing gown for trackpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt that hugged her petite figure. Her damp hair clung to the nape of her neck, and curled around her cheeks.
‘Left my handcuffs in the car.’ He patted his pocket. ‘And my gun.’
‘Well, thank the angels for that, then. You know I don’t do weapons.’
‘How could I forget,’ he groaned. As a young constable he’d been showing Darcy his Glock .22 and she’d dropped it. The gun was fine, but the dint in her mother’s dining table was never properly repaired.
‘Here.’ Darcy handed him the wine. ‘You do the honours, I need a drink. It’s been one long day.’ He could see the shadows under her eyes. The light fragrance of lilies reached across to him. It was so quintessentially Darcy – any time he smelt it he could see laughing green eyes, porcelain skin and silky hair the colour of dark toffee.
He turned away. Darcy as a friend was better than no Darcy at all. He’d worked that out the hard way.
‘A day and a half, and we need to eat,’ he said.
‘Steak sandwich?’
‘Ah.’ He ran his hand a
cross his stomach. ‘I promise I’ll never lust after Nigella Lawson again.’
‘I make a better steak sandwich than Nigella,’ Darcy replied.
‘It’s possible.’
‘And I’m here and she’s not.’
‘But maybe absence makes my heart grow fonder?’
Darcy laughed then. ‘Well that did work for me.’ She tapped his arm as she passed him carrying a lump of frozen steak. ‘Missed some aspects of this place like crazy when I was in Sydney. It feels like a lifetime ago, rather than six months. Just a shame about the Banksia Cove gossips.’
‘Nothing like everyone knowing your business.’ He unscrewed the top off the chardonnay and inhaled appreciatively. Darcy knew her wines and didn’t give a rat’s for the conventions of reds with red meat. He could also tell she was hanging on by a thread and if banter was what she needed, then he could banter with the best of them. ‘Refreshing to walk down the street and know that Rosie will have catalogued the comings and goings at Fish R Biting for anyone who’ll stand still long enough to listen.’
‘Not to forget Roger, propping up the bar. You lads are as bad as any woman.’
‘Nothing but nothing could top the yoga class. I had to sort out a disagreement there last month.’ He pushed the wine glass across the scarred wooden table as Darcy stood heating a skillet. The microwave pinged.
She raised an eyebrow at him. ‘A dispute at yoga? I thought it was supposed to calm them down. What happened?’
He poured himself a glass of orange juice and leant on the back of the chair. ‘One of Rosie’s many grandnephews, Zeke, has been picked by the Sydney Stallions to play league. That’s a huge coup for an indigenous lad with lousy grades. Especially one who comes from a backwater of a town near Bundaberg.’
Darcy knew the league team her father coached in Sydney was high on the wish list of aspiring young footballers. Her opinion didn’t matter. ‘Good for him, I guess,’ Darcy replied, without looking up from the onion she was slicing. ‘Nothing much else around here for kids, but I’m still all for an education rather than a footy career.’
‘Sometimes an education’s not enough. Anyway, it’s a great opportunity.’ Darcy was passionate in her dislike of rugby league. He headed off any arguments. ‘But the fight blew up because Lana made mention of the fact Zeke’d filled out a hell of a lot since he started training with the youth squad at his high school. Said he’d want to be careful they didn’t find something illegal in his blood. Merle got stuck into her, accusing her of slander. In my opinion, it was just sour grapes, but it all turned ugly when Lana sideswiped Merle’s car with her four-wheel drive on the way out.’
‘So what did you do?’
‘Kept the peace, sorted it out. Got the car repaired for mate’s rates, but at Lana’s expense, and told Rosie to teach Merle some manners. The lad doesn’t need trouble before he’s even left town.’
‘And is Zeke taking steroids?’
The smell of searing meat made Noah’s mouth water before he could answer. ‘No. He’s working out in the gym at the Police Citizens Youth Club. He’s one of my regulars. Good kid, bright future.’
‘So you got more funding?’
‘Yeah, I thought I’d missed out, but then a last-minute plea and, Bob’s your uncle, I have another year. Enough to pay my part-time staff as well. Takes some of the pressure off me.’
‘That’s great, Noah. You’ve worked so hard on the kids’ program. You deserve it.’
A little glow bloomed in Noah’s chest. Darcy’s approval was important to him. Her eyes sparkled with warmth despite her puffy lids and drawn skin.
‘Thanks.’ He tipped his glass to her. ‘Can I butter the bread?’
‘No, but you can toast it. There’s sourdough in the freezer.’
‘Yes, Chef.’ He clicked his heels. ‘So when do we get to see the new kitchen in action?’ he asked
Darcy scowled. ‘Hopefully we’ll be cooking up a storm in four weeks.’
Noah sliced the bread and dropped it in the toaster. ‘Do you regret coming back to such a small place?’
The look she shot him was sharp, perhaps a touch defensive. ‘Do you?’
‘No. I can make a difference here.’
‘And you couldn’t in Brisbane? I always thought you’d end up running the show down there.’
He laughed, spinning the butter dish. She wasn’t going to answer his question and he wasn’t going to push. ‘Yeah, right. The top jobs are all about politics and playing the game. I’m just a country boy at heart.’ The toaster popped and he slathered butter on the two slices and passed them over to Darcy.
‘How’re your folks?’ Darcy layered the toast with onions, steak, tomato and lettuce and smeared some sort of green paste on the top slices.
‘Good. Mum’s pestering Dad to go on a holiday in June, but you know what the industry’s like. Hard to find a relief farmer for a dairy. Thanks.’ He took the sandwich from Darcy and bit into it, his tastebuds lighting up. ‘This is great!’
‘Least I could do,’ she replied. ‘But your dad’s going to have to retire one day. A holiday might make him realise what he’s missing.’
‘Yeah, Dad would still love me to take on the dairy, especially now that Grace is setting up practice as a vet. It’ll break his heart to see it turned into a housing estate.’
‘Hard call, but surely you wouldn’t leave the police now?’ She sounded shocked.
Even Darcy, despite hearing so many of his stories, had no idea how wearing the role of policing could be. Pulling the broken bodies out of wrecked cars was almost as bad as seeing the despair in the eyes of the victim’s family when he had to deliver the news. That never got any easier. It made the tough life in SERT look like a picnic some days.
‘No, I wouldn’t change my job for anything, but . . .’ He didn’t want to have that discussion with Darcy right now, maybe never. She didn’t know the real reason he’d come home. ‘We’re all capable of having bad days. At least tonight we had a win.’
‘There’ll be a hell of a lot of debris washing up for the next week or two.’
‘Yeah. I’ll check tomorrow at first light to see if anything’s salvageable. They reckoned she’s all but disintegrated. Hope your man has insurance.’
‘My man?’
‘You came aboard all wrapped together and didn’t want to let go.’ He shrugged. ‘It felt like you were claiming him.’
‘Maybe I was. All I could think about was hanging on and hoping like hell.’
‘That I didn’t have to cut you free?’
‘Yeah . . .’
The silence was like a dark hole that gaped between them. ‘I’d never do that to you, Darce. Never.’
‘I know. You’ve got my back.’
Noah heard the huskiness in her voice and had to sit on his hands to stop from reaching for her. ‘And you’ve got mine.’
They ate in silence, the hot food giving them a boost. Colour was returning to Darcy’s cheeks. She’d lost the scattering of freckles across her nose that he used to think were so cute. Now her skin was creamy and pale, though flushed a little in the warmth of the room. Despite everything she’d been through, there was still a vulnerable innocence about her when she let her armour slip. And right now all her defences were down.
‘Thanks for the sandwich. You put Nigella to shame.’ He stood up, knowing he needed to leave before he made a fool of himself. She’d been seventeen the first and last time they’d kissed yet the fierce urge to protect her, which had only deepened with that kiss, still raged in him. Lucky her rejection all those years ago kept him in line. It had taken too long to rebuild the friendship. He couldn’t go through that again.
‘Any time. Let me know how my man gets on, okay?’
‘Will do. See you later, Darce, and thanks.’ He touched her shoulder, letting his hand rest there, feeling the strength in her fine muscles. ‘You did well.’
‘And you.’ She placed her hand on top of his and squeezed. He thought he f
elt a tremble. Probably exhaustion. ‘And you.’
Gypsy followed him out and sat on the front steps watching him leave. The light shining from Darcy’s front window was a little yellow beacon of hope in the dark street. The rain was coming down again, obscuring the paddocks. His headlights reflected off the wet road and turned the bitumen silver. Nights like this the bad news never stopped. Noah was desperate for a full night’s sleep. He hoped to hell the phone didn’t ring at some unholy hour.
3
Darcy couldn’t quite see her back in the bathroom mirror, but she could feel the tender spot between her shoulder blades where she’d slammed into the boat, and she’d found blood on her pyjama top this morning. There were bracelets of bruises on her upper arms from where Noah had hauled her aboard. The back of her right calf was already a spectacular dark purple; she knew by the end of the week it would be a whole rainbow of colours.
The wine clanked against a jam jar as she opened the fridge door. She inspected the contents of the bottle. Nope, alcohol was not to blame for her thick head. She’d barely touched it.
She coughed and her lungs gurgled. Probably should go to the doctor. Darcy knew that water in the lungs could lead to all sorts of nasty complications. She rubbed her sternum feeling tight muscles and battered ribs. If she felt like this, her man from the yacht was going to be a hell of a lot worse.
Gypsy nudged her. ‘All right, all right. Your breakfast is coming, young lady, then a walk. It will do us both good.’
The dog biscuits rattled into the two metal bowls. Gypsy had finished most of hers by the time Major had chewed a mouthful. Major had been the final straw in Darcy’s doomed relationship with Dylan. Her high-flying ex had insisted the time was right to live together in a stunning new apartment he wanted to buy in Potts Point. But Major wasn’t welcome. When Darcy realised that Dylan expected her to get rid of the dog, she’d stormed out of his bachelor pad and never gone back. Major was her responsibility until the day his stocky little legs could no longer carry him. From the moment she’d found him abandoned on a bitterly cold city street, he’d been her one source of unconditional love. Perhaps she’d also used him as an excuse for ending a foundering relationship, but she wasn’t going to examine that too closely. Without that messy bust up she wouldn’t have headed home to Banksia Cove unannounced and a whole chain of events might not have been set in motion.
