Shelter

by Claire Boston

  His brain kicked in and he stepped back letting out a breath. Back off, buddy. She’s vulnerable, injured and relying on you to give her somewhere safe to stay. Now is not the time to get fresh.

  “I’ll see you when I get home.” He walked out without looking back.

  Chapter 9

  Zamira let out a deep breath as Jeremy walked out. For a second, she thought he was going to kiss her – and she’d wanted him to.

  She’d never been so attracted to someone that she’d wanted to throw caution out the window.

  But she did with Jeremy — even with everything that was going on.

  A nap would help her think clearly. She sighed again. At least she had one less worry. Henk wasn’t coming after her. Kay’s behaviour at the winery the other day was a little more understandable now Zamira knew what she was dealing with. She had to be under a lot of stress.

  Fetch lay in the dog bed next to the couch snoring his head off. He had the right idea. She settled on the couch and set her phone alarm for an hour, then she snuggled down.

  The rug and pillow smelled like Jeremy, cocooning her in its warmth. She closed her eyes, pretended Jeremy’s arms were around her and fell asleep.

  When her alarm went off an hour later, she groaned as she moved. A few more aches had moved in while she’d slept. Switching off the alarm she sat up, brushing her hair off her face. Time to scope out Henk’s place, see how much was visible from Jeremy’s fence line, then she’d go into town and buy something for dinner.

  Her phone rang and she smiled when Jeremy’s name came up. “Hello?”

  “You’re OK.” He sighed.

  “Sorry, I just woke up.” And she’d forgotten her promise to call him every hour.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “A little sore, but much better, thank you.”

  “Good. Don’t forget to call me in an hour.” He hung up.

  Warmth spread through her. He was looking after her, even though they barely knew each other.

  The best way to repay him would be to cook him a lovely dinner. She’d write a list now, before she headed outside.

  The fridge’s shelves were as barren as a wasteland. A few essentials were in order on top of the ingredients for the stir-fry.

  Her list got longer and longer as she checked his pantry. She might as well get herself some food she liked to eat if she was staying a few days.

  She’d ask Jeremy what he wanted when she called him in an hour.

  Shoving the list into her pocket, she grabbed her bag off the table. Fetch could come with her while she checked out Henk’s property.

  She glanced towards his dog bed but he wasn’t in it. “Fetch?”

  No response.

  Slowly she scanned the rest of the living area. Every flat surface was covered in paper or projects. Jeremy needed to learn how to organise. A single photo stood on the entrance table revealing a teenaged Jeremy and an older man who must be his father. No photos of his mother or sisters which was kind of odd.

  She walked around the couches, but the dog wasn’t there. “Fetch, come here.” She headed towards the hallway, her muscles tense. Jeremy hadn’t shown her through the house yet, but he had invited her to stay, so he shouldn’t be annoyed. She couldn’t leave Fetch inside.

  The first two doors were closed so she continued down the hallway. A bathroom on the right with towels haphazardly hung over the towel rail and at the end of the corridor was a huge bedroom. The pitched roof had exposed rafters and a sky light to let in the sunlight or starlight. A huge king-sized bed sat directly beneath it, the sheets half on the ground and a brown bulldog curled up next to the pillows.

  “Fetch!”

  The dog opened one eye, glanced at her and then closed it. She stalked over to him, stepping over clothes Jeremy had left on the floor. “Get down.” She pointed at the ground which did nothing considering the dog’s eyes were shut.

  How could she get him off?

  Cautiously she wrapped her fingers around his collar and gave a gentle tug. Fetch opened his eyes and groaned.

  “Off.” She made the command as authoritative as she could.

  He snorted and closed his eyes again.

  “No!” She knelt on the bed, the softness of the mattress sinking around her knees. Jeremy slept here every night. She flushed, blocking the thought and pushed Fetch, hoping to slide him towards the edge, but he barely budged. The dog was heavy.

  She pushed him again and this time he slid a little way. He yawned and watched her.

  Stubborn creature.

  She brushed her hair back and shoved him again, getting him to the edge. Now what? She couldn’t push him off. The mattress was a long way off the ground. Bulldogs weren’t like cats, always landing on their feet. She climbed off the bed and stared at Fetch, her hands on her hips.

  She bent over, patted her lap. “Come on, Fetch. Come here.”

  His tail thumped on the bed, but he didn’t move.

  She walked further away, towards the window and tripped over Jeremy’s football boots. She landed with a thud on her butt. “Ow.”

  Jeremy was definitely a slob. Clothes were left where they landed when he took them off… and that wasn’t an image she should have in her head. She glanced towards the bed. Did he sleep naked?

  No, don’t go there.

  She shouldn’t be in here at all. Determined, she got to her feet and tugged on Fetch’s collar again. This time he snorted. She snatched her hand away. He might not bite, but she had little experience with dogs.

  She huffed. She wasn’t willing to force him down which left her two options; leave him here or call Jeremy and ask him what to do.

  Well he was expecting her to call. She got her phone out of her pocket and dialled.

  “What’s up?”

  She pulled a face. “Ah, well, I’ve got a bit of a problem.”

  “Do you feel nauseous? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”

  His concern touched her. “No. I want to get some groceries, but Fetch is on your bed and he won’t get off.” The words came out in a rush.

  He chuckled. “Slow down. You’re in my bedroom?” She couldn’t read his tone.

  She winced. “Yeah. Fetch must have gone in while I slept. He’s ignoring my attempts to get him outside.” She tilted her head. “He looks pretty happy.” To be honest, she would have ignored her too. The bed would be far more comfortable than the cold outside.

  “Don’t sweat it. He always goes in there if I don’t close the door. He’ll follow you anywhere if you get him a treat. They’re in the laundry cupboard.”

  Right. She hurried along the corridor back to the laundry. “Where exactly?”

  “Good question.” He laughed. “I think I put them in the top cupboard above the sink.”

  She opened the cupboard, which was surprisingly bare, and found a red packet of dog treats. “Found them.” The packaging crunched as she got the treat out and a fast, clicking sound came towards her. Fetch hurried into the room, his tongue hanging out and drool starting to form. “Huh.”

  “What’s wrong?” Jeremy asked.

  “Fetch is here.”

  “He must have heard the packaging. I swear that dog has excellent hearing for treats, but is deaf when I need him to go outside.” His affection was clear.

  She smiled. “Well thanks for your help. I’ve got it sorted now.” She led Fetch outside, closing the door behind her and then gave him the treat.

  “All right. I’ll see you tonight.” He hung up.

  Zamira inhaled deeply, the eucalyptus scent tickling her nose. It was so peaceful out here. In the little garden beds below the verandah, green shoots peeked out of the ground. Plants weren’t her forte, but they didn’t look like weeds. Down the path, his vegetable patches were much greener with beans hanging off one of the bushes. Maybe his fridge was bare because he grew a lot of his food.

  She itched to take photos, but if she started now, she’d forget everything else.

>   She hung her camera around her neck in case she happened to see Henk, and then wandered towards the bush on Jeremy’s side of the fence. The fence wasn’t visible from here, but it couldn’t be too far away. Fetch trotted by her side, looking up at her every so often as if she might conjure another treat out of thin air.

  The low grasses and shrubs were heavy with raindrops and the bottom of her pants was soon soaked through. She reached the fence with large signs on it proclaiming it was electrified. The ground a metre either side of it was cleared so no plants grew against it.

  First she wandered down towards the road, checking if there were any breaks in it. Not likely, but she had to check.

  The gate was still firmly closed and the gravel driveway veered away from the fence and disappeared behind the bush. Turning, she returned the way she came, taking random photos of trees and shrubs in case there were other security cameras she hadn’t noticed.

  Through the trees she could just make out the main house, and she used her zoom lens to try and get a better look, but it was too far away.

  She continued walking as a few spots of rain hit her. She increased her pace and Fetch left her, trotting back towards the house.

  Wimp.

  Not that she could easily explain why she was taking photographs in the rain. She’d have to be quick.

  Towards the back of the property were a mass of grevilleas, planted almost like a hedge. It was impossible to see through them and would be difficult for anyone to force their way through. Natural security.

  The rain was coming heavier now and she tucked her camera back in her bag and jogged back to the house. Maybe by the time she got back from town, Henk’s gate would be open.

  She checked Fetch was happy on the verandah and retrieved Jeremy’s ute key from her pocket.

  Now she just needed to remember how to drive a manual car.

  ***

  An hour later Zamira was back at Jeremy’s and she had checked in with him. Henk’s gate was still shut. If the migrants worked a typical nine to five shift, Annisa should be home soon. The Task Force was yet to call, but she’d been clear on what she planned to do.

  With a sigh, she put away the groceries and stretched, her muscles pulling in response. Some yoga would help to gently stretch the aches from the crash. The rain had stopped so she changed and went outside.

  Breathing deeply, she worked through a simple yoga routine and her muscles sang. Fetch wandered over while she was doing downward dog and shoved his face in hers. She laughed and pushed him away. “Sit.”

  He plonked his butt in front of her, his head tilted to the side.

  When she finished her session, the cloudy sky made the light perfect for photos. She retrieved her camera and walked outside, Fetch following her. The neat garden beds contrasted with the wild bush on the edges of his property — tamed and untamed, tidy and natural. Did it reflect Jeremy’s personality? His house was a mess but he was calm and organised with work.

  She framed her first shot and then hesitated. Was taking photos of his house an invasion of his privacy? He seemed pretty relaxed about everything, but she’d ask when she called him next. She could always delete them.

  Starting at the front of the house, she took photos of the garden, the flowers, the leaves, even the path. She walked back down the driveway and took long shots of the house and shed, and then came closer, picking up the detail around the windows and doors. The beautiful workmanship with the joints fitting snugly together — such attention to detail.

  How could a man who was so careful with his work be such a mess with the rest of his things?

  She paused outside the entrance of the huge shed. The doors were closed and wood shavings were scattered along the ground on the outside. Peeking inside would be an invasion of his privacy. Instead, she wandered towards the tree line to take some shots.

  She followed the trees around the block until she reached the electric fence between Jeremy’s and Henk’s properties.

  Still no call from the Task Force.

  Zamira sighed and turned back towards Jeremy’s house. Her stomach rumbled. It must be almost time to check in.

  Fetch watched her from the back step as she approached, and she snapped a photo of him. His jowls were so droopy she wanted to rumple his face. He might be a little grubby, but he was cute in a boofhead kind of way. Why had her mother warned her against dogs? Walking closer, she took a dozen photos and then squatted down to his eye level. He wagged his tail and trotted over, pressing his head into her lap with such enthusiasm he knocked her off balance and she sprawled on the ground.

  Fetch followed, his tail wagging faster and tongue licking her face. Ugh. She held up one hand to fend him off while the other held her camera off the ground. He was too heavy to push out of the way.

  The growl of a car engine and the crunch of tyres on the gravel had her turning away from Fetch as Jeremy’s truck drove up.

  Fetch lost interest and ran to greet Jeremy. Great. Jeremy had seen her sprawled on the ground in an undignified heap.

  Not her best moment.

  Zamira sat up, running a hand over her face and pushed her hair out of the way. Carefully she got to her feet, brushing the dirt off her pants as Jeremy jogged over, concern on his face. “Are you all right?”

  She grimaced. “I’m fine. Fetch got a little enthusiastic and you drove up at exactly the right moment to see me at my worst.”

  He huffed. “I’m glad. I was worried you’d been lying there since you last called.”

  “Seconds only. I’ve been taking a few photos.” She held up her camera. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I’d love to see them.” He walked towards the verandah and she fell into step beside him.

  “Have you finished for the day?”

  He shook his head. “I need to make a few calls, write a couple of quotes and work out the design for the granny flat.”

  The business of being a builder. She stepped back. “I’ll get out of your way. I can take some more photos.” A drop of rain hit her hand. She glanced up, saw the clouds had lowered. “Or read a book.”

  “You won’t disturb me. Come inside, have a cuppa. I bought some biscuits.”

  She followed him into the house. “I know I’m being an imposition. Tell me what you need from me and I’ll do it.”

  He turned, his eyebrows raised, eyes dark and a small smile on his face.

  Her face flushed. That came out the wrong way. “Ah, what I meant was, if you want privacy while you work, I can sit outside or in the ute or whatever.”

  His smile grew. “Take the couch, or if you want to go through your photos, I’ll clear some space at the table for you.”

  Her heart fluttered. “Yeah, space would be good.” She played with her pendant, her whole body hot. Was he interested, or just teasing her?

  She stayed where she was as he cleared one end of the table and then gestured to a seat. “Go for it. I’ll make us a drink.”

  He was back to the familiar easy-going man, but she couldn’t shut off her body’s response to him.

  She wanted to be brave and express her interest.

  But risk taking wasn’t in her DNA — not until this holiday at least. So maybe she could change.

  She smiled, placed her camera on the table and went to get her laptop out of her suitcase.

  Chapter 10

  Jamie arrived as Jeremy finished his design for Gladys’s granny flat. Jeremy had completely forgotten about him coming around, but it was perfect timing. He’d been struggling to ignore Zamira next to him for the past half an hour. He should have cleared the whole table and told her to sit at the other end. Then he wouldn’t have occasionally brushed her knee with his under the table and he wouldn’t be close enough to hear her little sighs as she worked on her photos. Each sigh of satisfaction tightened his groin, made him picture her on his bed beneath him.

  So Jamie’s arrival had stopped him from doing something he might regret. He had offered her shelter and sanc
tuary, and making any moves on her was not appropriate. He stood up as Jamie called out at the back door, “You home?”

  “Come in.” He glanced at Zamira. “I promised Jamie I’d fix his bike.”

  She smiled. “Go for it. I’m happy here.”

  Jamie’s eyes widened as he walked in. He grinned. “Hi, Zamira, right?”

  “Yes.” She reached for her pendant. “How are you, Jamie?”

  “Great. The kids were well behaved today.”

  She frowned and Jeremy explained. “He’s a high school English teacher.”

  Jamie nodded. “Teacher by day, SES volunteer by night.”

  “Does everyone here volunteer?” she asked.

  Jeremy grinned. “Not everyone. Kim’s with marine rescue, but Adam helps enough people as a cop.” He turned back to Jamie. “Let’s go to the shed.”

  Jamie waited for the back door to close behind them before he whistled. “I’m impressed, mate. Is she staying with you?”

  “Yeah.” He debated briefly whether to let his friend jump to conclusions, but it wasn’t fair to Zamira. “She was in a car crash this afternoon. The doctor wanted someone to keep an eye on her overnight.”

  “Shit, is she all right?”

  “A few bruises and aches.” He helped get the motorbike off the trailer and wheeled it into his shed. “What needs to be welded?” He crouched down by the bike as Jamie pointed out the issues, and put Zamira into the back of his mind.

  ***

  Zamira watched Jeremy walk out and then let out a sigh of relief. Being so close to him, feeling the warmth of his knee brush hers was sweet torture.

  Time to get control of herself.

  Her phone rang, the shrill sound in the silence making her jump. Her heart leapt. Could it be the Task Force?

  She grabbed it and answered, “Zamira Musa speaking.”

  “Ms Musa this is Agent Tara Franklin from the Task Force.”

  Zamira swallowed hard. “Thank you for calling me.”

  “I’m in charge of the Blackbridge operation. I understand your cousin is one of the migrants staying at Henk Jennings’ place and you’ve spoken with her.”

  “That’s right.”