The tenderness in her voice, as well as the tired acceptance, confused him still more. ‘So why did he cheat the Eltons, selling their prize bull?’
‘Desperation to look after us, to feed his children.’ She sounded harder now. ‘And they’d been robbing us blind for more than six years, demanding lower and lower agistment fees when their profits were rising. When your father found out the truth—that they’d been cheating him, even if it was done legally, on paper—well, he snapped. I know it’s hard to see it, Jared, but your father was a good man, an honest man driven too hard.’
Jared gripped the phone so hard his fingers ached. He heard his next words dripping like icicles. ‘You didn’t see it that way when he was dead.’
Another sigh. ‘You’re a man now. You’ve had your share of grief. Have you never said anything you’ve regretted when you were in pain? I’ve never stopped loving your father. Why do you think it took me so long to marry again?’
And with the perspective of his stupidity with Anna, Jared heard the tears in his mother’s voice, the regret that hadn’t died in sixteen years, and he said, ‘I’m sorry.’ It came out rough and ungracious, but it was sincere.
‘I know you are.’ But she sounded as Anna had before, so weary—all I ever wanted was to try to make you happy—and he wondered if he’d made it as hard for Anna as he obviously had for his mother, never letting either of them in. ‘Richard Elton knew what he’d done to your father, to us all. All that money you sent him—he sent it to me. That was how I could afford to buy the house—and that’s how we’re setting up in Mundabah, with the sale price.’
‘Can I ask what this has to do with Anna?’ he asked cautiously.
‘You know already,’ his mother said, still sounding weary. ‘You’re so much your father’s son, Jared—always full of plans, always trying new solutions. Yours work, I know that, but that’s been as much a case of blind luck and inheriting a healthy property and a sackload of money as it is to your abilities.’
He frowned so hard his eyes slitted. He’d spent sixteen years trying to be someone else. ‘When things are wrong, you have to try to fix it.’ And heaven help him, he heard his father’s echo coming down through the years…I’ll fix this, Pauline, I know what to do…
‘Is that the plan with Anna, Jared? What plans do you have to fix this problem—and does Anna know about them, appreciate them?’
The tart note in the questions surprised him because of the insight he hadn’t expected, certainly not from his mother, who’d deserted him. ‘At least I’m trying to fix it, not patching up my mistakes with inane words of love, like that makes it better!’
‘Actually, it does make a lot of things better for a woman, son—or at least bearable.’
‘What?’ He shook his head to clear it. If he’d expected his mother’s agreement on one thing, it had been on that. ‘I heard you and Dad fighting, and him putting all the burdens on you. I heard what you said to him—and you said it the day he died. You said his love was useless, that at least insurance would feed us!’
‘I was barely older than you are now when I said it. I’d just turned nineteen when I had you. I was thirty-three when your father died. Your father loved me, but he left me a widow at thirty-three with five children to feed, no job experience outside of farm work and bills and debts to pay. I had no way to look after you all. What would you have said? What would you have done that I didn’t do?’ Then, as he put himself in his mother’s shoes for the first time, finally seeing why she’d given him to Bryce, and realising how many mistakes he’d made, she added, ‘I was five years older than Anna is now. I know you’ve always blamed me for giving you to the Currans, no matter how happy you were there. Are you still blaming me, Jared? Do you blame Anna for feeling alone, unloved and a failure over Adam’s death?’
With a fresh tide of shame washing through him, he realised that, though he hadn’t blamed Anna for Adam’s death, he had been blaming her for leaving him—until the past three days, when the bleeding shadows inside his wife’s grief he’d been ignoring had finally come into the light. He heard the harsh truth behind his mother’s gentle words—and he saw Anna through a woman’s eyes.
Jared closed the eyes that had been blind for so long, said, ‘Thank you.’ He still found it hard to call her Mum after all these years separated, but today he felt as if he had a mother.
‘I want you to look at your father’s mistakes in life with a man’s perspective. I know what he did seems rash, stupid, and ultimately it broke up our family—but without it we would have lost each other a year or two before we did…And I always knew he loved me, needed me.’
‘You said it…made everything bearable?’ Was that his voice, sounding so tentative? ‘How could it? He lost everything. I remember hearing your fights. You said you couldn’t work miracles for him, for us!’
‘Can you, Jared? Can you pull off a miracle and give Anna the children she lost? And doesn’t that make you feel angry that you’re so helpless? And when you felt that helpless and stupid, didn’t you say things you regretted later, or didn’t say things you wished you had said?’ she asked, still sounding drained, but the words hit him like a body blow. ‘And even if you said or did nothing wrong, don’t you think Anna still feels your anger, even when you hide it—and then she blames and hates herself a little more?’
He snapped, ‘I never once said a word of blame or anger over Adam’s death.’
‘And you think silence makes it all right? You think she can’t feel it?’ A soft, pitying laugh came down the line, and he gave a start. ‘My poor Jared, for all your success, you still know nothing about what women want. For all his mistakes, your father knew what it takes to make a woman happy. He knew how to make me feel needed, important—and he made sure I knew I was loved. Why do you think it took me fifteen years to find another man? Why do you think, despite all the hardships we suffered, I never once thought of leaving him?’
Jared’s head was spinning; he felt hollowed out, scraped clean of all his life’s sureties and pretensions. For the first time in the years since he’d come to Jarndirri, he felt truly humble. ‘Tell me how to do that…Mum?’
She didn’t mention him calling her Mum for the first time in years; he hadn’t called her anything, and only now he wondered if he’d made her feel like nothing. ‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’ she asked, and he could almost envision that shrewd little frown on her face when she’d seen or heard a nuance he’d been trying to hide from her. ‘Something’s happened.’
‘Yes, it has.’ He looked around, checking to see if Anna had come in, and then he told his mother about the past few days—and about Rosie’s call tonight.
You have no choice, Jared. You have to tell her now, tonight.
Half an hour after hanging up from his mother, Jared watched Anna through the window, no longer thinking about his pain, his need or the promise she’d no longer have to keep; it was all about her. Filled with aching love and helpless pity, he closed his eyes, threw up a brief prayer for help, and walked through the screen door.
As Anna pulled the thread through on the deep scarlet heart of the rosebud on her stitchery, she smiled and hummed a little. Though she’d been alone most of the night, she felt peaceful. The drumming rain on the tin roof had kept her company, and she’d spent an evening without any ghosts visiting her. The creative outlet had filled her. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed it—and she’d never had to miss it. One word to Jared, and he’d have—
No. I could always have bought this myself, ordered art supplies and set up a room for myself. Even if Jared didn’t understand, he’d have accepted it.
I could have done this any time the past five months without interference, she acknowledged to herself. I was waiting for permission, just like I always have.
Strange that an evening’s sewing had made a woman of her. She’d waited all those years for the catalyst, the conversation, the acknowledgement from others of who and what she was—bu
t the strength had had to come from inside her. Deep down it had been there all along.
‘Anna.’
Smiling, ready for company, she pushed the needle through a hole in the folded material to hold it in place, and looked up. ‘Hi. What have you—?’ Then something inside went still and cold at the look in his eyes. The compassion, the fear—the desperate resolution. ‘What is it?’
‘I don’t know any way to soften this.’ Those sky-wet eyes, haunted, so unsure.
An odd sense of fatal calm touched her, like frost on young leaves, turning them brown and unfeeling. ‘Then don’t. Just say it now.’
He came to her, knelt at her feet, and laid his hands over hers. ‘Rosie called.’
There it was: fate coming full circle. ‘She wants Melanie back, doesn’t she?’ she asked through lips that felt numb.
He bent his head, kissed the knuckles white from curled fingers. ‘Maggie found out what’s going on, and she called Rosie. She’s offered to take Melanie, to move to Perth with her so Rosie can finish university and have her child.’
Funny, though he was kissing her hands between his words, she felt as if he’d landed body blows: she felt bruised and battered, without breath. ‘Why did she change her mind?’ she managed to say, wheezing it.
‘I gather she thought Rosie would change her mind. Talking to Rosie made her see how much she loves Melanie, enough to be a single mother—alone, without Maggie’s help, if need be.’
‘I see.’ She closed her eyes. She had to hand back her precious girl, leaving her with no child to love, an empty future…but hadn’t part of her expected this all along? She’d always known how much Rosie loved Melanie. She’d been preparing for it, deep down, even as she’d allowed herself a tiny kernel of hope.
And now, facing the inevitable, there was choice: the slippery path of self-pity or the hard climb of strength. She’d been right yesterday: motherhood, to have a baby to love, was worth any sacrifice. Any sacrifice. She’d learned that the past few days. And that baby smile, those sweet chubby limbs, had helped put a healing scab on her endless wound.
The woman Anna had become tonight made the choice with a clean conscience.
After a minute or two of silence—or maybe half an hour—Jared said quietly, ‘Rosie’s half-hysterical with guilt, Anna. She’s so sorry she’s put you through this.’
Another minute, another half-hour, she nodded. ‘It’s all right—I always thought this would happen once she had treatment. Where’s the number?’ Wordlessly Jared pushed a piece of paper into her hand. Dry-eyed, legs steady, she got to her feet. ‘Excuse me, please. I need to call her. Poor darling, she must be suffering so much,’ she whispered. She felt a tiny dart of hard crystal touching her heart, cold, so cold. She moved past Jared to the door.
‘Anna—Anna, I’m so sorry…’
Was that Jared’s voice, tough, strong, in-control Jared, pleading? Some emotion touched her then, and she looked back over her shoulder. ‘I don’t blame you for this. I don’t blame Rosie, or even Maggie. In fact, I think Rosie saved me. By giving me Melanie, she helped me come back to life.’ A phantom’s smile passed her lips. ‘And let’s be grateful you’ll only have one court date to face. You don’t have to commit perjury for me.’
She walked inside without looking back.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT WAS four a.m., but Jared still paced the verandah furthest from the room Anna was sharing with Melanie for the last time. There was no way he could sleep tonight. He had to stay awake in case Anna awoke and—
No, he thought wearily, she won’t come to me. She won’t need me. She has Sapphie and Lea now, if she wants to talk.
The woman he’d seen tonight left him in awe. She’d called Rosie, and asked simply, ‘How are you, Rosie? You must be missing your baby.’ She’d agreed that Bill could come by plane and take Melanie the next day—today. Rosie wanted Anna to come with the baby, but Anna said it was best if she didn’t. Rosie thanked her for caring for her daughter from the heart. Anna said with tender warmth that she was welcome, that she’d always known Rosie couldn’t leave Melanie behind.
And through it all, Anna spoke with such dignity and strength Jared was amazed. He called Lea and Sapphie and asked them to comfort her, and she spoke to them, too. Expecting her to break down, he’d been lost in the undefeated power of Anna’s giving, loving heart.
Anna was back, the Anna he adored—but she wasn’t his any more. She was her own woman.
Lea and Sapphie arrived at Jarndirri around midnight, so close together it was as if they’d caught the same flight. Holding a sleepy Molly on her lap, Anna told them the whole story with a quiet dignity that left Jared shattered and speechless.
When Lea and Sapphie came to her, holding her from each side, she said simply, ‘Girls, I’m not lying to you. I’ll get through this. Melanie was a gift from God for as long as it lasted. She…made me want to live again.’ And with a gulp that gave her away, she cried quietly in their loving arms.
Lea and Sapphie gave her the right kind of love, one that didn’t say ‘Don’t go there’.
How could he ever have blamed Anna for leaving him? He’d been the one to destroy their marriage, ruin her faith in him. He’d almost killed her with his demands.
No wonder she wouldn’t cry for him. No wonder she didn’t need him. Lea and Sapphie were just there for her, no conditions, no making their lives right at Anna’s expense. They knew how to love.
He knew now, too. He just wished he’d known before it was too late.
Then Anna looked at the sleeping Molly and smiled, with an inner serenity that couldn’t be faked. ‘I’m sorry I avoided her—I should never have avoided you both, Lea. I thought it would be too painful, seeing the reminders of what I can never have, my own child. Seeing Molly now, I know she’s a true blessing in my life—as you both are.’ She smiled mistily at Lea and Sapphie. ‘Thank you for putting up with me all this time until I came to my senses. I couldn’t ask for better friends, more loving sisters. If you ever need anything, either of you, just ask, and it’s yours. Right, Jared?’
Jared felt a rush of love as he nodded. How like Anna to include him, to keep him in the family promise, even as she was leaving him. ‘Anything you two or Molly need, it’s yours,’ he said gruffly, his throat thick. Though he had nieces and nephews from Sam and Dale, Molly was special. ‘You know that. We’re family.’
And he ached at the word, finally understanding its meaning. All this time, all these years, he’d focussed on having a family all his own, to create a new, unbreakable circle—and he’d had it all along. He’d looked at children, his and Anna’s, as a way of going forward and leaving the past behind—but he’d already moved on without knowing. And the parts of his past that had kept coming back to haunt him no longer troubled him. His dad had been a good man who’d made mistakes in life, just as he, Jared, had done. His dad had committed the crime of trusting too much, and failing the family he’d loved—and he, Jared, had done that too.
Despite his mistakes, his father was a man dearly loved by his family, years after his death.
Jared West was his father’s son, and that was all right.
‘Can’t sleep either?’
The soft voice seemed to spin right out of his dreams and memories. Slowly he turned and, like a miracle, she was there, sweet and rumpled, barefoot and in a pink nightie. Pale, with dark rings under her eyes, she was still so beautiful to him he gulped. ‘No.’ Why, why couldn’t he say what was in his heart, or give her the comfort he desperately ached to?
She stood in the doorway to the living room, the light from the kitchen framing her from behind. An empty-armed Madonna of Raphael’s imagination, and it was physical pain to see her there, so lovely, so strong and yet so lonely. He yearned to touch her, to give something to take away the leaden ball in her heart.
Unable to help it, he began walking to her, wishing he knew what to say or do to make it right, but as his mother had said, he was helpless. He sto
pped two feet short of touching her, the lost beauty in her face cutting his soul. ‘I wish I could do something…’
A tiny, affectionate smile curved her mouth. ‘It’s okay, Jared. I don’t need you to wave any magic wands. I’m okay.’
‘I know you are,’ he replied hoarsely. She was a woman now, strong enough to handle her suffering without his miraculous offerings to make it better. ‘But I still want to.’
A humourless laugh, nearly silent, came from her, without the adorable donkey-braying at the end. ‘Of course you do. You wouldn’t be Jared if you didn’t.’
‘I’d do anything to make this go away, so you could have Melanie,’ he blurted, and winced when she whitened at the name. ‘I’m sorry, Anna, so damned sorry…’
A tiny shake of her head dried the words on his tongue. Stupid, inane words because he’d hit that wall of human limitation. There was nothing he could do.
‘Melanie’s well, and has a family to go home to. I’ll even be able to see her sometimes, watch her grow up. I’ll be her aunty Anna.’ Anna closed her eyes, drew in a breath through her open mouth. She wetted her lips with her tongue. ‘There’s far worse suffering in the world than that. I can go on. I’ll survive.’
He heard the farewell in what she hadn’t said, and agony sliced through him. ‘I know.’ Now, the only thing he could do for her was set her free without guilt, and he’d do it if it killed him. ‘But if you ever need anything from me—anything—I’ll be here. Always.’
Wetness spiked her lashes. ‘I know,’ she whispered.
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