He saw her swallow, and hunger to take away the pain hit him like a surging river tide, taking him over.
‘I know I have no right to ask this of you…’
‘Ask,’ he said hoarsely, palms and fingers straining to her, wanting to give something, anything, no matter what it cost him.
Her lashes lifted, spiky with tears, and she looked at him in mute longing. Help me. And she took one step, another.
Hands cradled her face, she was here, she was here—and he lowered his face, every moment anguish and beauty. He tasted her tears on his lips as he kissed her, felt her hands on his skin. Understood that this was less the familiar hunger than need for human contact…she needed him.
He carried her to the bedroom for what he knew would be the last time.
Afterwards, he held her in his arms, not letting her go for a moment. He knew anything he said would be wrong, so he held her and waited.
‘I held Melanie while she slept,’ she whispered at last, caressing him with so much tender yearning, something splintered in him. ‘I’ve been so jealous of Lea, so resentful. Wanting her life—but nobody’s life is perfect.’
There were no words. He held her close, kissing her forehead, her eyes, her hair.
‘What is it with us Curran women?’ she whispered.
Though he knew what she meant, he murmured, ‘I know…both so unforgettable.’
She looked up with a watery smile at that, but her eyes were shadowed in the night. ‘Come with me into Adam’s room?’
Anna hadn’t been in there since the day they’d buried him. He’d been in a hundred times, seeing in the emptiness all they ought to have. It always gave him renewed determination to find a way to give Anna the babies she craved. But she’d closed the door that day, closing the door on their marriage, as he now knew, and she’d never gone in again. She’d begun leaving him that day, even though she’d stayed another seven months.
‘Of course,’ he said quietly.
They dressed and walked hand in hand to the little room next door to theirs—the door she’d refused to even look at as she’d passed.
‘It looks so empty,’ she said softly, seeing the cradle gone, the baby bath and changing table—all the things he’d given to the Lowes. The only things left here were the rocking chair she’d put in to feed their son, the blue paint on the walls and the hanging mobile where the cradle should have been. It bobbed in the tiny breeze created by the door’s opening, painted in bright colours by a loving hand of the expectant mother.
The betrayal of what he’d done hit him in that moment, weeks too late.
But Anna squeezed his hand. ‘I thought I’d feel anger—but no. It’s good you gave it all away to someone who needed it, Jared. Hanging onto what’s gone is useless.’ She leaned on his shoulder. ‘You were wiser than me.’
He shook his head. ‘I did it in anger, Anna. You were giving up on me, on what I wanted, so I gave away what you created.’
‘We all do things we regret.’ A tiny breath that wasn’t quite a sigh; she turned into his arms. ‘Whatever happens, I’m glad for this week here. Part of me will always be on Jarndirri—and no matter where I am, part of me will always love you, Jared.’
No rush of exaltation; no bolting to take advantage of her love just to make his life right. Finally, he knew what love was—and here, in her arms, in the room of the son who’d never lived, on the last night he’d ever have with her, Jared knew what he had to do.
‘My father killed himself when I was fourteen. He’d lost everything. He was going to be arrested on fraud charges. Rather than face it, he hanged himself in the barn—and I found him.’
He was amazed to hear his voice so steady. Anna didn’t gasp or jerk back, but held him close, her head resting on his heart, sharing his inner darkness, taking half of it inside her and giving him healing in return. Funny how, when he’d always thought her the gentle one unable to bear his burdens and secrets, in fact she could handle all life hammered on her, and she only became stronger, more beautiful of heart and soul.
He told the story simply, without the blame that had weighed him down for so long. Finally he talked of the memory that came to his eyes day and night…the face as black as coal, the swinging feet he’d seen from outside the barn…
His stupid question: Dad, what are you doing up there?
Anna held him in silence, letting him talk it all out—and when he was done, though she still didn’t speak, she kissed the skin covering his heart, and he felt as if she’d washed the blackness out of his soul. He felt cleansed, his secret shared, and she still loved him.
And she was still leaving.
She led him back to the bedroom, but they didn’t make love. Wearing their nightclothes, they held each other, waiting for the dawn that would bring the end.
He’d given her one secret—and it wasn’t enough. He knew that now. He’d been the keeper of Curran secrets for too many years, keeping them from Anna from a misplaced belief that he’d needed to shelter her, that she couldn’t stand the strain. He knew better now.
‘When you leave, keep Sapphie in mind, too,’ he said quietly, playing with her hair. ‘She’s twenty-five next week—and she’ll need a friend.’
Anna frowned up at him, but didn’t ask—and he realised she knew him far better than she believed. ‘Your father’s will left Sapphie a special piece of information for her to receive on her twenty-fifth birthday.’ And he told her the secret he’d been hiding for years, the bequest that could destroy Sapphie. ‘When your mum was dying, your dad turned to Dana, her mother, for comfort. Sapphie’s your half-sister.’
Now Anna did gasp. She gave her opinion on her father in a few pithy words. ‘Lea knows, doesn’t she? Lea somehow found out about them. That’s why she hated him.’
Jared nodded. ‘She saw them together…and she wouldn’t hate him so much if she didn’t love him more,’ he said quietly, understanding that more than Anna ever could. Her conflict with her father had never been as deep-seated as Lea’s—or his own—or with such cause.
Anna looked into his eyes for a long moment. ‘That’s the bond between you and Lea. You found your father’s body—and she saw my father cheating on my mother. It was never sensual, or even that you were closer to her than me. You both knew how it felt. I didn’t.’
In deep relief, knowing she knew at last without his having to betray Lea, he nodded.
She held him close, and the peace of heart and soul that was Anna slipped inside him, the snuggly blanket of love that was his consolation in a world dark and blank without her. ‘And he put this on you? How long have you known about Sapphie?’
He shrugged. ‘He told me a few weeks before he died.’ He hesitated, but this, their last night together, wasn’t the time to leave anything unsaid. ‘But I wasn’t surprised.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Even though she looks like Dana, she’s always been like a bridge between you and Lea—and she gets you both, the way only family does.’
Anna only nodded. ‘I’d ask why neither you nor Lea ever thought to tell me, but I think I understand now.’ Her smile was wry, self-deprecating, but without anger or blame. ‘Is there anything else about my life I need to know?’
‘Only that Sapphie will need you and Lea both, I think, when she finds out. How Lea felt about your dad and why is her story to tell. You should talk to her, Anna. There’s a lot about her life you do need to know. She really loves you—probably more than she knows.’
‘I know that now.’ A slow nod. ‘Thank you, Jared.’ She didn’t have to ask to stay the night with him—they both knew she would. And he knew that, when the sun rose, it was over. The bags she hadn’t fully unpacked would stand by the door by the afternoon.
There couldn’t be a worse time to say I love you. Even if his mother was right and it made things bearable for a woman, made her want to stay, he knew if he started he wouldn’t stop; he’d blurt out everything struggling to burst from his heart. Knowing that he’d rather live with her than have a dozen sons with another wo
man could only make Anna feel guilty now, when it was far too late, and all she wanted was peace and freedom.
All he could do was let her go, wish her happiness. Maybe one day he’d even wish she could find love again, with a better man—but not now. Not now.
So he kissed her and held her, giving her the choice; and when sweet caring turned to slow passion, it was right, it was beautiful. It was farewell.
The next afternoon, Anna hovered by the door of the plane as Bill strapped Melanie into a travelling seat. ‘Don’t forget to give her a bottle or rusk if she cries. She can’t make her ears pop,’ she said for at least the fourth time. ‘And she’ll need a nappy change.’
Bill flicked her a glance filled with compassion and caring. One of four guys who’d asked her out during her time in Broome, he’d been the only one she’d hesitated over before saying no. He was a good man. ‘I’ll take good care of her, Anna. I promise you.’ He chucked Melanie under the chin. ‘We’ll have a great time, won’t we?’
Melanie kicked her feet out, played with her fingers, gurgled and smiled at the young cop as he climbed into the plane. Bill had offered her a seat in the plane, but she’d shaken her head.
It had to be now, quick and clean, like an amputation, while she had Lea and Sapphie and Jared to help her let go, or she’d never let go. She’d packed a card in Melanie’s bag with her contact details. On the back she’d written simply, If you ever need anything, Rosie, Maggie, please call me. With love from Melanie’s Aunty Anna.
Bill turned to the pilot, and said curtly, ‘Let’s go.’ He flung a quick glance at Jared standing silently behind her. Then he gave Anna one last, serious look, tried to smile and failed, nodded and pulled the door shut.
Anna looked at her sweet baby girl for the last time. Her heart felt like an equation unsolved, full of fractured pieces, but still she didn’t cry.
The momentary break in the weather, allowing Melanie to stay dry as Anna had carried her from the house to the hangar, ended in a hard downpour as the plane exited the hangar, heading for the runway. It seemed appropriate.
Don’t do it, don’t run after her. You can’t change anything.
She’d done the right thing. She’d been motherless most of her life. Melanie deserved a real family, with her real mother.
She stood in the hangar as the four-seater Cessna picked up speed and slowly lifted into the air. It disappeared into a dark grey curtain long before it reached the clouds.
‘You okay, Aunty Anna?’
A lump filled her throat. Without any right to her love after the past year, Molly still gave it unstintingly, and Anna knew it was because Lea had kept the love alive. ‘I’m sad, baby. Can I have a special Molly-hug?’ she whispered, lifting her niece into her arms.
Molly wrapped her little body around Anna in a monkey-cling. ‘I lub you, Aunty Anna.’ It came out Aunnyanna.
‘I love you too, Molly,’ she choked, and turned her face to Lea in silent thanks for flying through the night to give her what she needed, when she needed it: the unconditional love of her sweet Molly. She smiled at Sapphie. They’d both flown through the night in the Wet to come to her. She couldn’t ask for better friends, sisters.
She was blessed.
A moment later, Lea said gruffly, ‘Molly, you need your nap.’ She took her daughter from Anna’s arms and, covering her daughter with a rain poncho, ran for the house.
As usual, Sapphie didn’t have to say it, didn’t have to ask. She knew talking about it now would only make her cry, so she didn’t. She said quietly, ‘I’ll make dinner,’ kissed Anna’s cheek and ran for the house in Lea’s wake.
They knew she was leaving.
Jared’s warm hand caressed her shoulder in silent support. Anna’s mouth quirked in a wry acknowledgement of the strangeness of life. He was giving her all she’d asked for, all she’d wanted—almost. Once, it would have been enough to make her stay. But it was too late—too late to stay, either at Jarndirri, or with Jared.
All that was familiar and loved was here. Ahead lay an uncertain future. But she knew she had to go, or live with a lifetime of regret. And she had to go today. A quick, clean break from all she’d hoped for, an amputation of heart and spirit.
‘Are your bags packed?’ he asked quietly, walking into her mind with the uncanny accuracy he’d always had with her, and he wasn’t hiding from it or trying to change her mind.
She nodded, unable to look at him.
‘You want to go now, don’t you?’
Again she nodded. In a smaller plane than the police one, she’d be an hour behind them by the time she left—and Melanie would be on her way to Perth with Maggie. She could fly herself home, and Ollie, one of Jared’s most trusted employees, would be able to fly it home on his way back from holiday.
Her hands shook. For the second time she was losing a baby and a marriage in a day—but this time there was no self-pity. At last, she knew she could move on, say goodbye.
‘I’ll get the plane ready.’ Jared’s voice was rough, jerky. Filled with unashamed pain.
‘Thank you,’ she choked. ‘Jared…’
‘Get your things.’ So curt, that empty well scraped dry again—but it no longer fooled her. She knew he cared, that if she said the word she could stay for ever—but he had no idea what life with her would be like. Living a lifetime with a woman who couldn’t give him his one soul-deep craving, who couldn’t bear to live with him in the home of his heart…
There were regrets no matter what choices she made today—but at least she could set him free to find life and love and a family. And if she’d never stop loving him, that was her problem. She had to love him enough to let him go.
She walked into the pounding rain without looking back.
Jared packed her bags into the tiny cargo hold at the back, strapping them down, then climbed out, pushed the door shut and faced her. ‘The plane’s full of fuel.’
Anna looked up at the sky, gauging. ‘The weather forecast said there should be just rain and no electrical activity until I reach Broome. I can fly that far.’ She smiled at him, scared yet serene. ‘Thank goodness for specially modified wheels for the Wet.’
He shuddered, and kept his fears and longings to himself, kept his mouth shut by brute force. I love you. Please stay with me.
He couldn’t leave, and she couldn’t stay.
‘Safe trip,’ he managed to grate out. It didn’t sound like his voice. ‘Call me when you get back, let me know you’re okay.’
‘I will.’ Her eyes wandered over his face. ‘I might think about heading to Perth or maybe Sydney one day. I want to apply for a teaching position.’
Didn’t she remember how she’d hated even the small city of Perth when she’d been at boarding school, how her spirit had felt starved until she’d come home to Jarndirri? How could she be thinking of a city of over five million—?
I starved her of affection and ignored her dreams, until Jarndirri was no longer home to her. I’ve lost the right to remind her.
‘Well, I guess I should go.’ She sounded sad, yet certain. She had no doubts—and his heart, already splintered, broke in silence.
He couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it. He stepped into her, grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her over and over, face, hair, lips. ‘I’ll be here.’
Her eyes closed, her lashes turned spiky with wetness. ‘I know,’ she whispered, and broke away from him. So much love, too much loss. How could she stay?
The rain pounded on the roof of the hangar as she climbed into the cockpit and closed the door. The plane fired up and began moving—out of the hangar, down the runway; it began picking up speed—
Something in him snapped; for the first time in his life he saw the choice clearly, and he made it without doubt or regret. He ran out and after the plane, tripped and landed on his knees in four-inch-deep water, scrambled up and kept running. ‘Anna! Anna, wait!’ he yelled. ‘Anna! Anna!’
Water sluiced all over him as she slowed th
e Cessna. The pilot’s door flew open; from beneath the wing she peered at him. ‘What is it?’ she yelled over the hard drumming rain.
He felt like a drenched cat and looked worse, but didn’t care. He ran to her, stood in the driving rain and shouted, ‘I only barely survived losing Adam. I don’t think I’ll survive losing you. Come back to me, Anna, come back.’
Her bottom lip sucked in; finally she lost her hard-fought control, and tears fell. ‘I can’t,’ she cried. ‘I can’t be here any more. Please don’t ask me to stay here. Not after today, not after losing Melanie. And you love Jarndirri—and you want children—’
Desperate to make her understand, he lifted a hand to stop her. ‘I can handle leaving Jarndirri. I can live without kids. But I can’t stand another day, another hour without you. Come back to me, Anna. Come back to me.’ He hoped to God all he wasn’t saying was clear for her to see in his eyes. I love you, I adore you, please, please take me back and give me a chance.
Her gaze remained steady on his face as he laid bare his love without words. He could see her mind racing. Then her eyes grew wide, firm with resolve. She lifted her chin and said, ‘The door’s open, Jared. Get in.’
There was no compromise. She was giving him only one choice: life without Jarndirri, or life without her. He looked around the place he’d loved for so long, the only life he’d wanted—until now. Yes, an uncertain future lay ahead with Anna, in unfamiliar territory, without full control of his life and destiny—but if he let her go now, he faced certain loneliness without her, a life without love. He was pretty sure he could survive without Jarndirri, without children if he had to—but he knew life without Anna was unbearable. ‘Can I pack a bag first?’
Her eyes, glittering with tears, lit and shone. She bit her lip, and slowly laughed, with that cute little snort he loved. ‘Sure. I can wait five minutes.’
He was back in four, running for the plane in case she changed her mind. He slipped and fell in the water again, totally soaked and wetting his case; but before he could scramble to his feet, she was out of the plane, and tender hands were helping him up. He smiled at her, touched her face with a fingertip. ‘Lea and Sapphie said they’re happy to stay and care for the animals until the men are back. Ollie can run the place as station manager. He’s more than capable.’
One Small Miracle Page 16
