Anahera’s head dipped in a slow nod. She could understand that.
‘I hadn’t expected to meet you, though. To...to fall in love...’
The words seemed to explode in her head. Luke had loved her. He still did, if the expression in his eyes were anything to go by. And then he touched her face again, and she had to close her eyes. Tightly, but that wasn’t enough to prevent a tear escaping.
‘I know I hurt you.’ Luke’s voice was raw now. ‘And if I could change anything by turning back time, that would be the one thing I would change. But by the time I did try to put things right it was too late, wasn’t it? And I’d been in a bad space when I called you anyway. It was just after the funeral. I didn’t expect to be forgiven and I was right so I let it go and never tried again. And you’d already moved on to a new life. You’d found Hana’s father...’
Another tear escaped. This was it—the moment of truth. But how could she destroy the love she’d seen in Luke’s eyes and inflict more pain on someone who’d already been through too much? Or wipe out the blissful reminder of what it was like to be made love to by someone who thought about her that way?
‘Would it have made a difference, Ana? If you’d known about Jane right from the start? Would you have let me close if you’d known I still had a wife?’ His sigh was heavy. ‘There’s another saying—that timing is everything. If only I’d waited a few months before taking that break...’
In the silence that followed his words Anahera made her decision. Maybe it would have been a different one if he hadn’t given her such an opportunity but there it was—a perfect lead in to what she’d seen as a framework to cling to.
‘It was a fantasy, Luke.’ Her voice sounded almost rusty and she had to clear her throat gently. ‘For me as much as you, I think. History trying to repeat itself, I think.’
‘You’ve said that before. About raising Hana by yourself.’ Luke was frowning. ‘I’m not sure I understand what you mean now, though.’
‘I mean that I knew it couldn’t have worked. I only have to remember my mother crying over photographs of my father to know that.’
She felt the touch of Luke’s hand as he stroked her hair. ‘I remember you saying that he’d died when you were very young. That was a tragedy.’ Luke’s smile was crooked. ‘But I’m not planning on dying any time, soon, Ana.’
‘That’s not what I meant. The real tragedy was that they loved each other so much but couldn’t find a way to be together all the time because they came from such different worlds. And he died in France. Mum couldn’t afford for us to go to his funeral even, and his family wouldn’t pay. They thought he’d been crazy, marrying a girl from a Pacific island who didn’t want to live in Paris.’ Anahera could see that Luke was processing what she was saying. Was he relating the story to himself? Wondering if she had no desire to live in London?
‘She tried,’ Anahera added. ‘She took me to Paris when I was a baby and we lived there for a few months. She said that, despite being so in love with my father, it was the loneliest time and that she couldn’t live without the sun. And he couldn’t live full time in a place that was a holiday destination for him. It had just been a fantasy...’
Luke’s face had stilled. Whatever emotion he was feeling was hidden. ‘So you’re saying you wouldn’t consider trying something like that? Living in a different place? Did you hate being in Brisbane that much?’
Given different circumstances, Anahera would have loved Brisbane, with the vibrancy of a big city and new things to entertain and challenge her. But she couldn’t tell Luke that because it would undermine the integrity of her framework.
‘I needed to come home,’ she whispered. ‘I needed my family.’
Luke nodded. ‘I think I understand,’ he said slowly.
His hand was on her shoulder now. He traced the length of her arm until he found her fingers and he raised her hand to place a kiss on her palm.
‘You were in love with me, too, weren’t you, Ana? Or did I imagine that?’
‘You didn’t imagine it.’ Her voice cracked but she carried on. ‘I loved you more than I thought it was possible to love anyone. I...’ She had to bite her lip so that she didn’t tell him she still felt exactly the same way.
‘And I felt exactly the same way about you,’ Luke murmured. ‘We never really got round to telling each other that properly, did we?’
‘No.’
‘And it’s too late now.’
Anahera’s heart was breaking. But this wasn’t just about her, was it? She had to remember that and hold on to it.
‘It was always too late, Luke. We just didn’t know it.’
In response, Luke drew her into his arms and held her close. She could feel his heart beating against her own. An echo of his voice rumbling in his chest.
‘If this is just a fantasy...would there be any reason for us not to enjoy it for a bit longer? Just a few days more?’
He was kissing her hair now. Stroking her back. Their lovemaking had been so wild and fierce as they’d slaked their pent-up need for each other. What would it be like to do it again—the way they used to make love, with that slow tenderness that took its own sweet time to build to such a passionate release?
‘How soon do you need to be home?’
With a sigh, Anahera let go of rational thought and lifted her face as she pulled Luke’s head close enough for her to touch his lips with her own.
‘Not for a while,’ she murmured. ‘Long enough...’
CHAPTER SEVEN
SOMETHING WEIRD HAD happened today.
Perhaps it was some kind of emotional alchemy from a mix of grief, desire and that bone-deep contentment that only came in the wake of complete physical fulfilment.
If someone had asked, Anahera would have said with absolute conviction that it wasn’t possible to love Hana more than she already did.
And yet here she was, looking down at her sleeping daughter, filled with love that had a new depth, and it was overwhelming enough to make her heart ache and for slow tears to trace the outline of her nose.
Was it because she’d been part of the grief of Tane’s family as they’d faced the loss of someone so deeply loved?
It couldn’t be that simple. It wasn’t the first time she’d lost a patient, and while every death saddened her it was a part of the job she had chosen to do and one that was as much a part of her as being a mother. Even the really tragic cases like Tane and little Hami—the child they’d lost to the same, awful disease of encephalitis a couple of years ago—could be processed in a way that made her a better nurse. A better person even, because they served to remind her how precious life was and how important it was to show the people in her life how much they were loved.
This new level of love for Hana felt like she had tapped into a mysterious vault where there was a vast new wealth of love to be found—and shared.
Could it be because she felt loved herself in a way that nobody but Luke could have made her feel?
The soft mosquito netting slipped through her fingers as Anahera stepped back from the bed after a final kiss and murmurs of love, but her train of thought was not interrupted.
Was love like some kind of emotional currency and the more you could put into the bank, the more you had to draw on?
The smile of greeting from Vailea as she went onto the veranda almost started her tears again. How could anyone get so much understanding and sympathy into one smile?
‘You’ve had such a day, love. Come and sit. Eat. I’ve made the paella you love.’
Anahera glanced at her favourite chair that she couldn’t wait to sink into and at the plate of fragrant rice and seafood—one of Vailea’s specialties—that was waiting on the little round table beside the chair. She took a step farther away first, though, so that she could press her cheek to her mother�
�s hair for a long moment.
‘Thanks, Mum. Love you.’
‘And I love you. Now sit. Eat.’
Anahera sat. And ate. And smiled.
She had all the love she needed in her life, didn’t she? From Hana and her mother. From her friends like Sam and Hettie and Keanu and Caroline. From the island community that was more like a huge, extended family that willingly shared the joy of celebrations and was there as a solid rock of support when things weren’t so good.
But the love that Luke could give her was different, her mind whispered.
Important...
Her mother sat there quietly, keeping her company as she ate her meal. Every so often she would glance at Anahera, who smiled back but said nothing. She needed this comfort. The delicious food, the company of someone so dear and the peacefulness of home that wrapped around her like a cosmic hug.
It was Vailea who broke the silence.
‘I was worried about you,’ she said. ‘I knew you’d gone walking because you were so upset about Tane and I thought you still would be when you came home but...’ Her glance was quizzical. ‘There’s something different about you.’
The last mouthful of her food was a little difficult to swallow. Just how much could her mother see?
‘I’m just the same, Mum. I am still upset about Tane—of course I am—but I feel better than I did. The sunset was beautiful. I...guess I found some peace on the beach...’
‘Mmm...’ It was obvious that Vailea knew she was being fobbed off. She wouldn’t push for more of an explanation and maybe that was partly why Anahera felt she deserved more.
‘I met Luke,’ she added. ‘And we talked. He was even more upset than I was, I think. He took losing Tane as a personal failure. He told Sam there was nothing more he could do here and that he was going to go back to London tomorrow.’
‘But what about all that research? Didn’t he want to go and collect tea-leaves and things?’
‘I think he’s changed his mind and he’s going to stay for a bit longer. He was angry with himself, I think. Like it was his fault Tane died.’
‘That’s ridiculous. I’ve never seen a doctor work so hard to save someone. Or care so much. He’s an extraordinary young man.’ She sighed. ‘You know, when he was here the first time I had hopes that something might happen between the two of you. He’s just the sort of man I could see you with. I hear he’s good with children, too. Marama has been helping me in the kitchen and she was telling me all about the football game over on French Island.’ She shook her head. ‘It was such a shock to find out he was married.’
‘His wife died just after he went back. It’s a really sad story. She’d had a dreadful accident and was in a coma for years. The only time she opened her eyes and spoke was when he was here. That’s why he rushed back like that.’
‘Ohhh...’
Anahera could almost hear the wheels turning in her mother’s brain.
‘Even if I was looking for a partner—which I’m not—I wouldn’t choose someone who lives half a world away. I know how that works.’ Her smile was poignant. ‘I saw you crying too often when I was little.’
Vailea’s eyes widened. ‘But that was because Stefan died. I lost the father of my baby and the man I loved with all my heart...’
An echo of Luke’s voice was as clear as if he was whispering in her ear.
I’m not planning on dying any time, soon, Ana.
‘But you couldn’t live together. He came from Paris and you said it was cold and horrible and you couldn’t live without the sun.’
‘I didn’t want to live without Stefan either.’ Her mother’s voice was quiet. Sad. ‘We would have found a way to make it work. Paris in the summer is probably wonderful, and who wouldn’t have wanted to escape a European winter by living in a tropical paradise? We were working it out. We would have worked it out but he...he died.’
‘Oh, Mum...’ Anahera reached over the little table to hold and squeeze her mother’s hand. She could hear the tears in Vailea’s voice, and the old grief was contagious. It didn’t matter how much love she or Hana or anyone else could give, did it? There was still that gap that could never be filled.
And maybe she needed the comfort of touch herself. The conviction in her mother’s voice had shocked her because they had knocked the bolts from the framework of the rationale she’d been using as the justification to keep the truth from Luke and maintain the foundations of the future unchanged. Her mother truly believed it would have been possible to live in different worlds and to be with the man she loved so much. To have a whole family.
The bolts were gone. It would take no more than a puff of breath to topple the emotional structure completely, and then where would she be?
Nursing even more guilt than ever before, that was where.
‘He wasn’t going to let you grow up without a daddy. He adored you. And me...’ Vailea sniffed and sighed again. ‘There’s never been anyone else for me. I doubt there ever will be.’
‘I’m...sorry...’
Inadequate words but the sorrow Anahera was feeling was genuine. For her mother, but for herself, too. She couldn’t remember her father so she couldn’t miss him but she had always been aware of that gap in her life so she had always missed having him in her life. Having a father like the other kids had.
It was in that moment that she knew what she had to do.
It was wrong to keep the truth from Luke. She had to tell him. She had to tell Hana, too. She wasn’t just depriving Luke of a daughter. She was depriving Hana of a father. If her daughter ever found out the truth, she would never forgive her mother.
Anahera would never forgive herself.
She would also have to tell her mother—something she should have done right from the start.
Maybe that would be the easiest way to start. Anahera took a very deep breath as she tried to collect the words she needed.
‘Mum?’
‘Yes, love?’
‘There’s something I need to tell you.’
‘What’s that?’ Vailea was distracted, fishing in the pocket of her apron. ‘I’m sure I’ve got a hanky in here somewhere...’
Her sniff revealed that she was still crying. How could Anahera make things worse by dropping the bombshell hovering on her lips right now?
And, if she told her mother, it was only a step away from telling Luke and that was...
It was terrifying.
Even if she started by telling him that there was a chance they could work things out and be together, she would have to destroy whatever hope that engendered by telling him the truth about Hana and then she would be back to square one. He would hate her for lying to him and he might demand a share of Hana’s life but exclude her from the time he had with his daughter and everything she had feared the most would come to pass.
She had dug a huge hole for herself and there was no way out. She couldn’t even see the frayed ends of a rope.
Vailea had found her handkerchief and she blew her nose. Then she patted Anahera’s hand and smiled, signalling that she had pulled herself together and things were going to be fine again.
‘Look at me...sitting here crying when I have so much I can be thankful for. When other people have so much more to try and bear. Poor Tane. And that poor little baby, who’s going to grow up without a daddy. Like you did...’ She shook her head. ‘What was it that you wanted to tell me, love?’
Her words felt like a judgement and as if she was the guilty party. Confessing had suddenly become so much harder. So much scarier.
Anahera swallowed hard. ‘Just...that I love you.’
She didn’t dare meet her mother’s eyes because she knew that too much would be seen. In the heartbeat of silence following her words, she knew that avoiding that contact hadn’t been enough.
&n
bsp; Vailea might not know what was wrong but she certainly knew that that there was something she wasn’t being told.
‘I love you, too, Anahera.’
Her heart sank. Her full name was only ever used when things were serious.
‘And you know that my ears are here for whenever you want to talk about anything.’
‘I know,’ Anahera whispered. ‘I...I can’t, Mum. Not yet. There’s...um...someone else I probably need to talk to first.’
This silence was broken by the creak of the old wicker chair as Vailea got to her feet. By the clink of cutlery against china as she picked up Anahera’s plate.
‘It’s hard to do the right thing sometimes,’ Vailea said quietly. ‘But, in the end, sometimes the right thing is the only thing you can do.’
Anahera nodded.
She knew that.
She just had to find the courage she needed to do it.
* * *
Of all his five senses, Luke decided that the one he would least like to lose might be that of smell.
It hit him even before he opened his eyes as the first fingers of light poked their way through the slats of the shutters the next morning.
That had been the thing that had hit him like a brick the moment he’d set foot on this island again, hadn’t it? That gentle, tropical breeze with the sweet waft of flowers like frangipani and jasmine.
For him, it would also remind him of the scent of Anahera’s hair. Of her skin.
He kept his eyes shut as he took a deep breath, his nose still half buried in the soft pillow.
Her scent was still on his sheets, but even if it hadn’t been, it was so deeply embedded in his memory that it would be an instant connection for the rest of his life. Interesting how closely it was related to the sense of taste because that was what filled his mind now as he surfaced to complete consciousness.
The taste of Ana...
Good grief...and how close were they both to the sense of touch? The memories were so recent and real it felt like he could roll over and start making love to her again this very second, and the desire to do exactly that was so powerful he threw back the covers with a groan and pushed his body to get his feet on the floor and start moving.
The Nurse Who Stole His Heart Page 10
