by Pat Warren
He put the flowers in water, then coaxed her into sipping her wine, all the while talking to her, bringing up stories from the hospital that were funny, not upsetting. She began to respond with a comment or two, even smiled a little, which encouraged him to continue. Apparently the wine was loosening her up somewhat.
He left to take a quick shower and returned wearing clean sweats, then poured more wine. “I’ve got your favorite ice cream for later. I thought I’d grill those two steaks I bought yesterday, make a salad. Are you hungry?”
“A little,” she answered. She sipped more wine.
Jeff decided not to introduce the antidepressants while she was drinking. Maybe if he got her to relax, made love to her and all, she wouldn’t need the pills. Maybe she’d go back to being the Tish he remembered, the one who laughed easily and often.
He put the radio on, an oldies station. Andy Williams was singing “Moon River” so he took her hand and tugged her out of the chair. “May I have this dance, pretty lady?” he asked, smiling down at her. Her pale cheeks had spots of color from the wine and her eyes didn’t seem quite so sad today.
Tish rose into his arms and he danced her around the small room while Andy serenaded them. She, too, was wearing sweats and white socks on her shoeless feet. In moments, he had her laughing as he sang along, his voice deliberately off-key. As the song ended, Jeff bent his head to kiss her.
The kiss started out as a soft brushing of lips, then he increased the pressure until he felt her draw in a breath and go on tiptoe, pressing herself against him. He deepened the kiss, sending his tongue into the sweetness of her mouth, tasting wine mingled with a rising desire. They swayed to the music that way a while until, his mouth still on hers, he guided them into the bedroom and backed her up until her legs bumped the bed. Holding her, he eased her down onto the mattress, the kiss escalating now, heating his blood and building a fire in hers.
But he kept the brakes on, calling forth all the gentleness he could, his hands lightly roaming her arms and rib cage while his mouth made love to hers. When he felt she was yearning, reaching, he slipped off her clothes and knelt to pull off his before returning to her side. Her eyes were bright and shining and her hands were seeking. For the first time since the miscarriage, Jeff knew she was thinking only of him, of fulfillment, of their love.
He made love to her slowly, taking exquisite care, his hands featherlight on her satin skin, his lips kissing everywhere until she was no longer able to lie still. Finally he braced himself above her and entered her, then lowered to take her mouth in a mind-blowing kiss. Slowly he moved within her and she kept up with him, then he quickened the pace, and still she followed him thrust for thrust.
Jeff raised his head so he could watch her beautiful face as she climbed with him, her breath coming out in short puffs now, her hands at his back shifting restlessly. He withdrew almost completely, then plunged deep and long, hearing her gasp of pleasure as he stroked her. Seconds later, she arched and quivered, closing her eyes as she strained, then finally let go as the waves engulfed her.
Watching her, Jeff felt his heart soar at the beauty of their joining, then let himself follow as his own release stunned him. Breathing hard, he let her take his weight as he struggled to return to the real world. His eyes open and on hers, he saw the hazy passion cloud her vision.
“I love you, Tish,” he whispered. “So very much.”
Her hands at his back tightened. “I love you, too, Jeff,” she said, her voice husky.
Knowing he was heavy on her, he rolled to the side, taking her with him, settling her against his heated body, her head cradled on his chest. They lay that way for several minutes, letting their damp skin cool.
Jeff was filled with hope, with love. At last, he had his wife back. It was going to be all right. He caressed her back, her shoulders, letting his fingers wander into her hair, massaging her scalp.
After a while, he eased back to look at her. “What do you say we go make dinner?”
She raised troubled eyes to his. “Jeff, what we just shared was incredible. But…this isn’t working. I called my SPEAR office this morning. I’m going back into the field.”
In the hospital bedside chair, Jeff straightened, glancing at his wife, still sleeping peacefully. “You’ll never know how greatly your decision to return to work disappointed me, Tish. How much you hurt me that day.”
He took her hand in his, studying the frail skin, turning it over in both of his. “Oh, I know all the reasons you gave me, that the pain of losing our baby made you feel as if you were losing your mind as you sat there in that tiny apartment day after day. But there were other choices. You could have gotten a job there in L.A. and stayed with me until I finished at the hospital. Then we could have both reported to SPEAR.”
He sighed deeply. “I guess you were hurting so much that you didn’t understand how much I was grieving for the baby, too. I realize you had the physical aspect of a miscarriage to get over as well as the emotional pain, but you didn’t realize I was in pain, too.”
Jeff placed her hand back on the sheet and sat back again. “I guess I can’t blame you, although I wanted to, for abandoning me when I needed you so much. I’ve seen other women go through what you did and a lot of the time, they seem to feel as if they’re the only ones experiencing pain. That baby was real to me, Tish. I lost a child that day, too. And then, I lost you.”
He sat for some time, elbows on his knees, staring down at the floor. Finally, he drew in a breath and looked at her again. “I want you to know I’ve let that go. I know now that hormonal changes had a lot to do with what you were feeling. I’ve forgiven you for leaving like that, but I still didn’t understand why you had to go just then.
“I didn’t understand until months later when we saw each other again in Australia….”
Australian Outback, late March
The only thing that kept him going was work, Jeff realized. He threw himself into the hospital routine, working double shifts, overtime, often until he was too tired to drive the short distance to the small apartment that was a constant reminder of the wife who’d left him. More often than not, he’d crash in one of the hospital rooms, wake and shower in the doctor’s lounge, pull on fresh scrubs and start all over again.
He heard about Tish from time to time from East and other agents, knew she was taking one assignment after the other, working long hours just like he was. To forget. To purge the memories.
Lord knew he tried to accept her decision, to get on with his life, but it wasn’t easy. He wanted Tish back.
But that woman didn’t want him.
In late March, SPEAR informed him that they’d made arrangements for him to go to Australia for more field training for his medevac specialty. Naturally, they’d cleared it with the hospital. So he packed his bags and went, hoping a change of scene would lift his spirits. Over the past couple of months, he’d lost weight and lost heart. He had to get both back or he’d be no good to anyone.
He’d slept most of the way on the fourteen-hour flight from Los Angeles to Sydney. Deplaning, he wandered around the airport, impressed with its size and newness. Since he’d slept through most of the meals they’d served, he grabbed a sandwich and washed it down with a beer before boarding a smaller aircraft to Adelaide, the city that had the closest airport to the outback station chosen for his assignment.
Another two hours and ten minutes in the air and he climbed down the ramp onto the tarmac, feeling the mild weather of an autumn morning, recalling that the seasons were reversed in Australia from the United States. Yawning, he realized he’d crossed the International Date Line and lost a day or two in transit. Which was probably why he felt so rung out despite the sleep.
In the baggage area, Jeff spotted a man holding up a sign with his name on it. Ron Hooper was the driver of the ATV who was going to take him to meet up with the other agents already gathered at the outback station. A forty-something, lean, tall man wearing faded jeans and a denim shirt, Ron was
a friendly guy who’d lived in Australia for twenty-some years and loved it.
“You’ll not find nicer people in the world than right here,” Ron told Jeff as they started out. “Or better cattle,” he added with a grin.
It was a rough ride over roads often incomplete, many unpaved and some that would be classified as a mere path. The southeast plains looked to be a lot of barren desert, Jeff decided. Ron kept up an interesting conversation for the nearly three-hour ride, telling Jeff all about the cattle station. He seemed pleased that Jeff had some experience working with cattle on SPEAR’s Arizona ranch and asked intelligent questions. Still, by the time they reached Pear Tree Station, Jeff’s bottom was more than a little numb from all the hours of sitting.
With the many time zones he’d traveled through, he found himself yawning as they pulled up to the main ranch house. Grabbing his one bag, since he’d learned to travel light, Jeff followed Ron inside and was introduced to the other SPEAR agents who’d been summoned. Fighting a lethargy that dragged him down despite all the coffee he’d had, he shook hands with four men who were sitting around a table strategizing.
As Ken, the spokesperson, explained to Jeff, a crisis had developed and Lise Meldrum—the station manager and daughter of Art Meldrum, the mostly absentee owner of Pear Tree—had escaped into the bush on horseback, along with SPEAR agent Russell Devane. Russell had been masquerading as Steve Trace, trying to capture Art Meldrum who, in fact, was really Simon, the traitor they’d all been chasing for months.
“You with me so far?” Ken asked Jeff who he could see was ready to drop. At Jeff’s nod, he continued. “So when Russell found out the enemy was almost here, he called for backup, but Simon was hot on their trail so he and Lise had to hightail it out of here.”
Jeff’s hours of learning to think on his feet at the hospital finally brought him up to speed. “But wait a minute,” he said, stopping Ken. “Didn’t you say that Lise is Art Meldrum’s daughter, but Art is really Simon?”
“Yes, that’s right. He was never around when she was growing up, although he adored her mother. I guess Simon has some sentiment in him because he named this place after a pear tree his wife planted years ago. But she was killed in a riding accident and Simon was too busy to pay attention to his daughter. She didn’t learn how traitorous he’s been until recently. She didn’t want to believe it, but Russell proved it to her. However some of Simon’s stockmen still believe he’s a good guy and they’ve gone after Lise and Russell.”
Jeff shook his head. “Kind of a confusing mess.”
“Yeah, it is,” Ralph, another agent spoke up. “We think that Simon left them and came through here, but we arrived too late to nail the wily fox. Now orders are we’re to stick around here and wait for Lise and Russell to come back.”
“Why don’t we go after them?” Jeff wanted to know.
“Hey, man,” Fred, a third agent, broke in, “this is one damn big country and we haven’t a clue where they went. So, we wait until they come back or we hear word of where they are.”
Ken nodded to Jeff. “We have a heliport on the property and a helicopter in working order. If we find where they are and someone’s hurt, which is entirely possible, that’s where you come in. Your medical training, that is.”
“All right.” Jeff stifled another yawn. “Maybe I’d better get some shut-eye in case I’m needed. I’m pretty wiped out. Jet lag, you know.”
“Sure thing,” Ron told him, pointing to a long hall. “Go down that way. Your room’s on the left, last one, right across from our other new arrival. I picked her up yesterday. Tish Buckner.”
Jeff had picked up his bag and started walking, but the name stopped him. Turning, he stared at Ron. “Did you say Tish Buckner?”
“That’s right. You know her?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” Jeff headed for his room, his emotions suddenly in a turmoil. Since January when they’d parted, he hadn’t left L.A. nor had he heard exactly where Tish had been assigned. He’d figured their paths would cross again one day, but certainly not on his first assignment since they separated.
Stopping in front of his room, he paused, looking at the door opposite his. Like at Red Rock, her room was directly across from his. Some would call it kismet. Others would tell him to ignore it, ignore her and get on with things.
Jeff went inside, kicked off his shoes and lay down on the bunk-style bed. In minutes, he was fast asleep.
He slept the clock around, a true luxury for Jeff, finally awakening at six. After getting a shower and putting on some clean clothes, Jeff walked out to the dining hall in the bunkhouse, stopping in the archway. The men he’d met yesterday were almost as he’d left them, still seated around the big oak table, coffee cups at hand, some still finishing breakfast, except for Ken who was in the sitting area on the phone. The only difference was that this time a woman occupied a chair, a woman with short dark hair and eyes that refused to meet his.
Several called out morning greetings to Jeff as he walked over to where Ron, who apparently doubled as short-order cook, was frying up bacon and eggs. Jeff picked up a mug and saw that his hand wasn’t quite steady as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
“You ready for breakfast?” Ron asked Jeff.
“I could eat, if you’re cooking.” Taking a bracing sip, he strolled to the table and took one of two empty chairs directly across from Tish.
“Seems you know Jeff Kirby, eh, Tish?” Ralph asked, watching the two of them, perhaps picking up on the sudden tension.
“Yes,” Tish answered, looking strained as she finally looked up. “Hello, Jeff.”
“How are you, Tish?” he asked quietly.
“Fine, thanks.” She was saved from more stilted conversation by Ken who’d hung up the phone and rejoined them.
“Here’s the story. We know that Simon stopped here after encountering Russell and Lise farther north. We also know he sent some of his stockmen after them, probably making up a lie to get them to hunt them down. We believe that Simon took off for parts unknown just before we got here.
“What we don’t know yet is where the others are. I’ve tried to reach them on Russell’s secured line and there’s no pickup. If only he’d call, we could go get them.”
“It doesn’t look good,” Fred volunteered.
“No, it doesn’t.” Ken wore a worried frown.
“Could we split up, send two agents in each direction, try to locate them that way?” Ralph suggested.
“Let’s wait awhile yet, then we’ll see.” Ken took his mug and went back to the phone.
Jeff’s breakfast arrived. The other men, finished eating, carried their plates into the kitchen and drifted into the sitting area. Tish remained seated, both hands curled around her coffee mug, watching Jeff eat.
Three eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast—a man-size breakfast. Jeff had been hungry when he’d walked in, but under Tish’s quiet gaze, he wasn’t sure he could swallow a bite. Annoyed with himself, he picked up his fork. Why should he be nervous? he asked himself. She’d walked out on him.
Focusing his eyes on his plate as he ate, he was nearly finished when she finally spoke. “I was always impressed by how much you could put away and never gain a pound,” she commented in a soft voice.
Wiping his mouth, Jeff looked up. She’d gained back some of the weight she’d lost, he noticed as his eyes devoured her. “You’re looking good, Tish,” he said, his spurt of anger discarded just as quickly as it had come.
“Not half as good as you look,” she said slowly, as if the observation hurt.
He wanted to keep her talking so he searched around for a neutral topic. “I hear you’ve been busy.”
“They keep me hopping.” She removed her hands from the mug, saw that they were trembling, and gripped it again.
“That’s good. Keeping busy means you don’t have time to think about the past.” Rising, he carried his plate and mug to the kitchen, then walked over to join the men.
By seven that
evening, the men were worried, impatient and restless. Where were Lise and Russell? Had they out-maneuvered Simon’s stockmen, the ones who’d been working under Lise all the while and had seemingly changed after Simon egged them on? Or had the stockmen realized their error and changed sides yet again?
Dinner was over and done with and Jeff was tired of listening to first one agent conjecture, then another. Grabbing his jacket, he strolled outside. The night was clear and chilly, the sky darkening but a half moon fully visible. A couple of the remaining stockmen were over by the corral, smoking. The low moan of cattle in the distance could be heard, the earthy smell of animals drifting on a light breeze. He strolled over to the horse barn and paused at the first stall. A dark chestnut mare bobbed her head at him.
“Hello, girl,” he said, stroking her long nose.
“Her name is Daisy,” a soft, feminine voice behind him said.
Surprised, Jeff turned and saw that Tish had followed him out. She was wearing jeans, a white cotton shirt and a rust-colored suede jacket he recognized.
She wasn’t smiling, but her brown eyes were steady on his. “Silly name for a horse, Daisy,” she said, walking closer to the stall.
“Yeah, it is,” he said absently.
For a long moment, she stood looking into his eyes, as if trying to read his thoughts. Finally, she spoke. “Do you want to go for a ride with me?”
They’d ridden many times on Red Rock Ranch and although he was unfamiliar with the Australian outback, he wouldn’t mind exploring it a bit. Although, if he was honest, that wasn’t the real reason he agreed to go. “Sure.”
Quickly, they saddled Daisy and another mare named Queenie, then rode off. Jeff let Tish lead the way since she’d been here a day longer and probably had checked out the area. She urged Queenie into a trot and he followed easily. Some fifteen minutes later, they reached a rugged outcropping of rocks and a small pool of water. They dismounted to let the horses drink, looping the reins around the branch of a scraggly eucalyptus tree.
