by Juanita Kees
Odd. Had Scott stoked the wood fire? A check of the lounge room showed the wood fire had damped down to glowing coals. The same orange glow bounced around the room. Bushfire! With one hand on her mobile phone, she rushed over to the window and swept the curtains aside. Up the hill, the partially renovated cabins glowed orange as flames crept up the walls.
TJ swore as she dialled the emergency number for the fire department. Icy terror surged down her spine. A bushfire here would race through the hills and destroy everything in its path. Only a few months earlier, the spark from a grinder had set the bush alight and the wind had driven the blaze across the hills taking houses and the bridge with it. TJ’s stomach churned.
Barefoot, she raced out the door and to the shed, shouting the address into the phone as she went. Woodchips and gravel dug into her feet as she wedged the phone between her cheek and shoulder and struggled with the lock. Tossing the phone on the ground, she wrenched the heavy door open on its sliders and hit the start button on the pump that sent water from the wells into the sprinklers around the property.
Sparks ignited the surrounding grass as the fire took hold. She turned the tap on the garden hose to full and ran towards the fire with it. The hose unravelled from its coil like a snake, spitting and hissing as water spurted in sharp bursts with increasing pressure. TJ aimed the hose at the grass in front of her, dampening the ground ahead of the fire. There was no time to think or feel as she battled against the growing flames.
“Jesus!” Scott’s shout from behind had her turning around.
“I’ve called the FES. Call your dad and tell him to spread the word to the neighbours.” She coughed as smoke stung her lungs. “I need you to clear a firebreak where it’s heading up the back fence. Equipment’s in the shed.”
Scott pulled off his cotton shirt and wet it in the stream of water from the hose. He squeezed the excess water out before wrapping it around her neck and covering her mouth. With a quick hug, he sprinted to the shed as he dialled his father’s number. Fifteen minutes later, he was clearing the firebreak while TJ dampened the ground around it when the Fire and Emergency Services arrived.
The shouts of the fire-fighters blended with the hiss and spit of the water as it sizzled over the flames. Still the fire licked at the blackening walls of the cabins, driven by an unseen accelerant. She stepped back to give the fire-fighters access, oblivious of the pain in the soles of her feet where loose stones and bush debris had pierced the skin. Her eyes burned with the heat of the fire and tears she refused to let fall.
Hopes, dreams, all destroyed in a single heartbeat. Who would do this? Who would be so vengeful as to risk an entire community to destroy a refuge? All those months of hard work, petitions, cutting through red tape, battles with the council and back-breaking renovation … all gone.
Exhaustion hovered as she swayed and her vision blurred. Months of pent-up emotions swelled to the surface. Screw being brave! Tired, so tired of the struggle to keep the dream alive. The pressure on her chest was almost unbearable as she swallowed back the pain squeezing at her heart.
First Tiny … now the cabins. At least Marty wasn’t there to see the devastation. She flinched as a gentle hand touched her ash-covered arm.
“Come, love,” Rose’s soft voice reached her ears. “There’s nothing more you can do here. The boys will have it under control in no time.”
The garden hose had gone slack in her hand. She stared at it unseeingly, as someone unravelled the now dry, crisp shirt from her face and neck. A warm, comforting arm settled around her shoulders as a hand removed the hose from her numbed fingers. Another encouraging hand on the small of her back gently urged her to turn around and walk towards the house, but her feet remained frozen.
“Scott!” called Rose, her voice urgent as TJ sank to her knees on the warm, blackened ground.
Strong hands slipped under her arms and drew her to her feet. Numb, she turned around unseeingly and buried her face in the comfort of his chest. His arms encircled her as he drew her closer for a moment.
“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said against her smoky hair.
The thud of the fire engine’s water pump matched the dull thud in her head, beat for beat, as she lifted her face and pushed away. Needles of pain shot up through her feet as she stepped back and she winced.
“Aah, Tiger, where are your shoes?”
Before she could protest, she was in his arms and cradled against him. Too tired to argue, she let her pounding head drop against his shoulder and clung to his grimy undershirt.
“You get her cleaned up while I make a pot of tea,” said Rose as she led the way up to the house.
Scott hoisted TJ closer as he negotiated his way through the door. For a moment, he hesitated. It might be better if he made the tea and left the cleaning up to his mother but as TJ sighed in his arms, he knew he couldn’t let that happen.
“Thanks, Mum.” His wry grin spoke volumes as he made his way up the corridor, through the bedroom and into the bathroom. “Sit here for a minute while I find us some clean clothes.”
He lowered her to sit on the closed toilet seat and she leaned her head back on the cool, porcelain cistern. Minutes later he was back, turning on taps and adjusting the water temperature. TJ stood unsteadily to her feet and reached behind her back for the zipper of her dress. Her tired muscles protested and she dropped her arms to her side.
“Can you get my zipper?” She swayed with fatigue as she turned and presented her back to him.
He gripped her shoulders to steady her before inching the zipper down and sliding the dress off her shoulders. “Will you be okay in the shower on your own?”
She hesitated before shaking her head. “Stay with me.”
“That’s a big ask.”
“I know.”
“It could change the rules.”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
“Yes. We’re wasting water.” Still with her back to him, she stepped out of the lacy boy-legs and tossed them in the laundry basket.
Scott sighed as his appreciative glance swept up those shapely legs to find them attached to an equally shapely and firm round bottom. As he reached for the fly of his jeans, the matching bra followed the path of the boy legs and he was awarded a glimpse of what she kept secret under her crazy t-shirts–like the one that said ‘My eyes are up here’.
“Last chance to change your mind.”
She stepped into the flow of warm water and lifted her face to let it sluice down her body. “Why waste more water? I’m too damn tired to take advantage of you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He whipped off his remaining clothes and stepped in behind her.
She leaned back against his warm chest with a sigh. “Thank you.”
He reached around her for the soap and held it in front of her face. “You’re torturing me here. My mother’s in the kitchen making tea.”
TJ smiled and took the soap from him. He reached around her again for the shampoo. The slide of her silky skin against his sent his blood rushing and he dropped a kiss on her smooth shoulder. She tipped her head back to expose the length of her neck and sighed with pleasure. His lips followed the line up along her jaw to the corner of her mouth.
“A cup of tea sounds nice.” She turned her mouth to meet his.
He nibbled her lower lip. “This is nicer.” It took all his strength not to run his hands down her curves and turn her into him. “But at any moment now, Mum will be knocking on the door and I’m sure the fire chief will have some questions for us.”
She sighed heavily and turned around, her breasts brushing against his him. He sucked in his breath as her arms came around him to soap his back. For a torturous moment he let her have her way as he dispensed the shampoo and massaged it through her hair. Wet, it fell like a silk curtain to rest in the small of her back.
“Rinse,” he ordered hoarsely.
She leaned back under the spray as her ha
nds slipped down to grip his rear for balance. The muscles rippled in response to the clutch of her fingers. His hands ran the length of her back as her lower body angled closer to his. He took a moment to admire the rosy, pink buds that tipped her firm, round breasts and willed his body to behave. Too late. He drew her back up against him and reached behind her to turn off the taps.
“We’ll finish this later.”
“Yes,” she whispered against his chest.
Seconds later, a warm, fluffy towel descended around her shoulders as he stepped away from her lips and out of the cubicle.
“Let’s get the preliminaries out the way. The sooner we call it a night, the better.” And with a little bit of luck, she would be asleep on her feet and the temptation of her lips would be removed.
TJ stepped out of the cubicle and winced as her feet touched the cold tiles. Scott looked down and saw the nicks and cuts caused by loose bark and twigs as she’d danced with the hose to dampen the ground around the fire. With a sigh, he wrapped her in the towel, swept her into his arms, whisked her through the doorway and dropped her gently in the middle of her bed.
“Stay there,” he ordered, tugging on his shorts and heading for the door.
Minutes later he returned with a mug of tea in one hand and a bottle of aloe vera gel, cold from the fridge, in the other. “I sent Mum home to get some sleep.”
He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or disappointed that she’d tugged on fresh boy-legs and a singlet. Propped up against the pillows, she looked pale and tired. He handed her the mug of tea, which she grasped with both hands, embracing the warmth.
“Thanks.” She sighed with pleasure and he watched her throat work to swallow another sip of the warm liquid. She closed her eyes and rested her head back against the pillows.
With a snap of the lid, Scott up-ended the bottle of aloe vera with an impatient shake and dispensed a dollop of the cool liquid onto his finger. The mattress dipped under his weight as he sat facing her, his thigh warm against her calf.
He recited the semi-final footy scores in his head as he stroked the sticky gel down a scratch on her velvety cheek with his forefinger and smoothed it with his thumb. He forgot the words to the West Coast Eagles club song and had to start again when she pressed her cheek into the palm of his hand and dropped a kiss on the pad at the base of his thumb.
It was hard to ignore the fire that spread through his belly from that simple action. He dropped his hand to rest next to her knees, reddened by the heat of the fire and chafe of the garden hose against them as she’d moved.
“Mark Johnson will be back tomorrow with the fire chief to ask us a few questions. There’s not much more they can do tonight. The fire is almost out. They’ll be back in the daylight to search for the source.” He smoothed more gel on her reddened legs as she nodded tiredly.
“Thanks.”
He lifted her foot and she bent her knee to rest it on his upper thigh. For a moment, he studied the delicate pink-tipped toes usually hidden by steel caps and traced the arch of her instep with his thumb. Her toes curled into the crease at the top of his thigh. Her eyelids fluttered as she felt his body respond and her cheeks glowed pink.
She tried to shift her foot out of his grasp, but his grip tightened as he tipped it up and massaged the cool liquid into her sole.
“Scott?” she croaked, as he treated the other foot to the same attention.
His throat tightened around the words as they rose to his lips. “Don’t. Say. A. Word,” he snapped through clenched teeth and smoothed gel around the underside of her ankle bone.
She whimpered a little as he stroked the sensitive flesh behind her knee where a sharp-edged branch had left a raised welt, squeezed her knuckles against her lips when the flat of his palm reached the top of her thigh. The empty mug slipped from her fingers.
Wordlessly, Scott swept it up and knelt to lean up over her and set it down on the table beside the bed. His stomach clenched as her fingers fluttered across his skin, up over the light dusting of hair on his chest and up further to cup his cheek. Her thumb feathered over his lips.
“Thank you,” she whispered as her hand moved to cup his neck and draw him closer.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered against her mouth.
Her lips moved against his, teasing, testing, tasting until he lowered himself to place his elbows on either side of her tantalizing body. Dragging his lips from hers, he cupped her face.
“Now would be a good time for me to go back to my own room.”
Panic flared in her eyes. “No! Please stay.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“For the first time in my life, I’m scared. Please stay with me tonight? First Tiny, now the fire…”
Scott pressed a finger to her lips. “I know, love, but if I stay we’re going to be breaking a few rules.”
“Maybe life is too short for rules,” she said and nipped the pad of his finger.
“Maybe … but you’ll see things differently in the morning.” He drew in a shaky breath as her hand covered his and she pried his fingers loose to plant a chain of kisses from his palm to his wrist. “What if…”
His words disappeared into flesh as she covered his mouth with her free hand.
“No ‘what ifs’ tonight. I have nothing else left. All I have right now is tonight.”
“We still have Marty, Connor and Luke. We can rebuild.”
She shook her head against the pillow. The drying strands of her hair spread across it and glistened reddish-gold in the soft lamplight as she moved. “No, it’s over. I can’t keep rebuilding.” Tears slipped down her cheeks, darkening the strands to copper against the stark white linen of the pillow cover.
Scott trailed kisses against the salty curve of her eyes. “We’ll rebuild together.”
When her fingers caressed his hair and moved to forge a fiery trail down his back, Scott knew he couldn’t resist her. As her arms edged him closer, he admitted he was lost and happy to remain that way. With every touch and slide of her silky skin against his, it felt like coming home. And when he finally slipped inside her warm, slick, welcoming cocoon, he knew for sure he’d found love.
TJ eased carefully out from under Scott’s heavy arm. For a brief moment, she watched him sleep. The bone-deep weariness that had threatened to overtake her had fled in the wake of his kisses last night. With each touch and whisper, she’d felt invigorated, alive and, for the first time in months, perhaps even years, she’d fallen into a peaceful sleep, wrapped in the strength and comfort of his arms.
Now, in the cold, hard light of day, reality struck hard. She slipped into track pants and a hoodie and padded across the carpeted room in bare feet to the door. Scott’s careful attention to her feet had eased the scratch and burn of her injuries. Injuries that were now a reminder of what they’d lost.
Sarge gave up his post at the bedroom door and trailed behind her into the kitchen. TJ unlocked the back door and opened it to let him out for his morning ablutions. Through the misty haze that hung low across the valley, the shadowy shape of the ruined cottages loomed, cordoned off with reflective yellow and red caution tape.
Wisps of smoke mingled with the mist as the piles of burnt wood and board still smouldered in the cool morning air. As Sarge trailed back in and passed her, she closed the door on the ghostly reminder of their dream reduced to rubble.
When had she started to think of it as theirs? It was hard to remember how life had been before Scott Devin had entered her world and taken some of the load off her shoulders.
And last night! TJ leaned her back against the door and closed her eyes. God, what a night! They’d moved in unison, like dance partners who’d spent a lifetime anticipating each other’s unconsciously choreographed moves.
She wanted to believe it was a one-off. Comfort sex, nothing more. But there was no point kidding herself. Last night they’d formed a bond that went beyond anything she’d experienced before. Nothing would ever be the same agai
n.
The kettle boiled and clicked off. TJ poured the boiling water into the cups and stirred to mix in the coffee granules. The rich, roasted, familiar aroma was absurdly comforting, as was the mundaneness of the task. Behind her, Scott padded into the kitchen. His morning sock shuffle was now as familiar as the landscape that surrounded them. She could tell his steps apart from Marty and Tiny’s.
Tiny. Surely there were no more tears left to cry? Yet as Scott’s arms slipped around her and pulled her into the warmth of his chest, a few escaped down her cheeks. She dashed them away and stroked the arms that enveloped her. With a sigh, she rested her head against his chest and accepted the kiss he pressed to her temple.
“Coffee’s ready,” she said as he gently set her away from him to scratch Sarge’s ears.
“Thanks.” He reached around her for his mug with a quick one-armed hug. “Have you had a look outside yet?”
“The mist is still a little heavy. They’ve taped off the area.” She turned to snuggle into him. As his free hand drew circles in the curve of her back, she purred a little.
His chest vibrated with a chuckle against her ear and mingled with his slightly unsteady heartbeat. “Any more of that, Tiger and you won’t be available to watch that mist burn off.”
Reality coldly intruded and she lifted her head. “I’m not sure I want to see what’s left.”
“With a bit of luck, the structural walls will be okay. Those clay bricks the Brickworks donated are fairly resistant.”
TJ stiffened. “The writing is on the wall…”
“What?”
She pushed at his chest and he stepped back. “Tiny’s book! Where is it?”
“What book?”
Excitement speared through her belly. “Last night I found a note from Tiny. And a notebook with drawing on the cover. I had it with me in his room. No … the fire. In the lounge room…” Her coffee mug hit the bench top with a thud and splashed liquid down the cupboard doors, which Sarge happily licked clean as she disappeared through the doorway. Within seconds she was back, clutching a notebook in one hand and a ragged piece of paper in the other.
