by Jan Colley
While they waited for the police he and Lucy braved the rain to check on the horses. To their horror, the river, two hundred meters away, was now within a meter of the stables. It took them nearly an hour to lead the half dozen animals back up to the barn where the Jeeps were kept, and to move their cars out of reach of the water.
A two-man team of police experienced in mountain search and rescue arrived, reporting widespread flooding for miles around. The weather was still atrocious. They spread maps all over the big kitchen table. Lucy stepped back, admitting that maps were beyond her, and Ellie showed them Tom’s last known location. The area was steep and densely forested. After an hour’s deliberation and calls to local search and rescue personnel, it was decided to wait until daybreak to attempt to send a team across the river.
Hour after hour they waited. At about four in the morning, Ethan left the cops in the kitchen and stretched out on one of the couches in the lounge. He scraped his hand along his jaw and thought he must look like hell.
Lucy sat across from him, talking to Juliette. Lucy looked utterly adorable. Her hair had been saturated and dried so many times today—not to mention enduring a sexathon—that it spiked out in all directions. She looked like a trendy hairdresser with a sticky-product fetish. Except that she wore a blue check shirt and jeans and woolly socks—the perfect farm girl.
The women talked quietly and his eyelids drifted shut. Nothing to be done till the morning. He might as well sleep.
He heard Juliette tell Lucy she couldn’t bear having to bury another husband. She talked of her first husband and the night that had changed her life, pitching her into a living hell for two years. Lucy did not let on that she already knew about it.
“I’ve paid my dues. I just want to be with Magnus for as long as we have and be pampered and pamper him back. Is that so wrong?”
“No, of course not. Doesn’t he know…?”
“I’ll tell him, as soon as he…” Juliette’s voice hitched. “I was foolish to think I could hide it.
“I know people think I’m a gold digger.” The sadness in her voice was evident.
Ethan would not have done anything differently. The newspaper clippings needed to be checked out. But he was glad things had turned out both for Juliette and his friend.
She continued sadly. “Truth is, I love him to bits and I’m proud to be his wife. I would never cheat on him. Growing up dirt-poor, I know I have a lot to be grateful for, and I am.”
“It’s obvious how close you are,” Lucy murmured.
“It’s not a one-way street. He gets his masculinity fed. He’s proud to have me on his arm. And he was so lonely when I met him. Now he laughs all the time. I make him laugh.”
Ethan had to agree with that.
“He also loves giving things. He’s generous. And he has someone to fuss over him now, make sure he takes his pills.
“But all some people see is he’ll be dead in a few short years, and I will still be young, and rich.”
“Not the ones that know you both, surely,” Lucy protested.
Ethan heard a mirthless chuckle. “People get jealous, I’m living a dream life.”
There was a pause, and drowsiness pressed down on his mind.
“You must see a lot of rich old men through here, honey. Tell me you never thought about it—snagging one and being obscenely rich.”
Ethan inhaled sharply through his nostrils, held it. Time stood still for a moment, or seemed to in his mind. He opened his eyes, somewhat reluctantly.
Lucy was grinning. “Oh, yeah. All the time.”
She’s joking, he told himself.
“Sadly, most of them bring their wives.”
She must be…
“Their trophy wives,” Juliette sighed.
“Ethan said that,” Lucy said cheerily. She turned her head and looked at him. On seeing his eyes open, she smiled an intimate little smile. “Oh. You’re awake.”
Ethan relaxed. She had a hell of a smile. He drank it in and smiled back.
Juliette stood and stretched. “I need some aspirin.”
Lucy rose also. “I’ll get you some.”
Juliette said she had plenty in her room and excused herself. Lucy came over to Ethan’s couch and perched on the edge. She expressed grave fears for the farm animals on the grazing land close to the river. They agreed that as soon as the search and rescue team was dispatched, they would go check on the stock. From what they had seen by the stables, the river had burst its banks in a big way. There could be substantial losses.
At five-thirty, the rest of the search and rescue team arrived. It was dark and still raining heavily, but the wind had dropped.
The team discussed their options over coffee and Ellie’s warm date scones. Lucy stood behind the seated men, chewing on her bottom lip worriedly, but she suddenly snapped her fingers. “Ellie, did you say Tom tried to cross at the ford?”
She had remembered something: an old Department of Conservation hut. “Tom would know of it. It’s not used anymore. They might have headed there for shelter.”
“Are you sure it’s in this area?” the team leader asked.
“I stayed there once, camping out, when I was a kid. All I know is, it’s only about half an hour’s ride on the other side of the ford, in a big stand of pine.”
“May not even be still standing,” Ellie said dubiously.
“It’s worth a shot,” one of the men said. “How deep is the ford usually?”
“Usually only one, one and a half feet, but…” Lucy shrugged again.
Ethan guessed the whole landscape would have changed in this storm. The radio news said it was the worst flood in the area for fifty years.
A rescue helicopter from town was already on alert. As soon as it was light, it would be flown to the top of the gorge. One team would climb from there down into the stand of pine it was hoped the hunters were holed up in. Another team would drive to the ford—if that were possible—and attempt a river crossing, then up through the bush to the vicinity of the hut.
The condition of the hunters and the safety of the river crossing or the climb would determine how the party would be brought out.
As soon as it was light, the team set off, promising to keep in touch by radiotelephone. Ethan and Lucy stood on the veranda and stared in shock at the unfamiliar look of the terrain in front of the house. The normally benign Rakaia had spread into a huge lake that encroached up past the stables. It wasn’t so deep, but the area it covered was impressive.
“Lucky you thought to move the horses,” Ethan murmured.
“We’d better feed them. Then I’ll call the neighbor. Apparently he looks after a lot of our stock, and I hope he’ll know where they are.”
According to the news, many of the lower-lying farms in the district had been flooded, and not just pasture. Summerhill was lucky because the house was on a rise. There were several properties with a couple of feet of water flowing through. They also still had phone access and power, unlike some of the more remote properties.
Lucy called their nearest neighbor and discovered he had been up for hours and had already seen to most of the animals on his and Summerhill’s land. “There’s just one group of ours he’s a bit worried about—down in the south pasture. He thinks there’s around fifty head there. But the land does rise at one end. He hopes the animals have made their way to the top.
“He offered to go check,” she continued. “But I’m tired of sitting around the house worrying. I’ll go.”
Ellie fixed them a big breakfast and shortly after eight, Lucy saddled up Monty and the mare Tilley for Ethan. They were well wrapped up in oilskins, boots and gloves and Lucy made Ellie promise to call her on her cell phone the moment any news came in from the rescue team.
“Lead on, cowgirl.” Ethan grinned, saluting her.
They set off into the dim morning, heavy rain making conversation difficult. Lucy was in awe at the massive lake the river had made of her land. It was sluggish and not deep
but they had to take care in the dips and valleys. Luckily she had a good memory and guided them confidently to the pasture they were seeking, about an hour’s ride from the house.
Three hours later, they had nearly all of the cattle herded into the gardens around the lodge, to Ellie’s dismay. They saw only two dead cattle in the floodwaters, and one trembling beast had to be roped and hauled up out of a water-filled hole. Then they rode over to check on the neighbor.
Ellie rang while they were still there to say the hunting party were all alive and well and had made it safely across the river. Tom was the only one with an injury—a suspected broken wrist. They had indeed sheltered in the old DOC hut. Lucy’s recollection had saved hours of searching.
“Hell of a memory you got there.” Ethan gave her a high five and she pushed her hood back and grinned with relief.
They set off for home midafternoon. Weary as he was, his muscles protesting at the unaccustomed hours in the saddle, Ethan looked around in wonder at the damage Mother Nature could inflict. He had previously experienced the other end of the spectrum, where she refused to provide any water, the greatest necessity of life.
Lucy seemed to be ambling along at half his pace. He reined in and waited, struck by her desolate expression. She was looking around, not at the flooding but the gorge and the mountains. She looked at it as if she’d never see it again.
“Great country, Lucy.”
“Even like this,” she agreed. “You know, I loved traveling, but wherever in the world I was, however hard I looked, Summerhill has always been the most exotic place for me.” She looked at him curiously. “Do you have an exotic place? Somewhere you keep locked away inside?”
Wherever you are, he thought promptly, and clamped his mouth shut before he made a complete ass of himself. He shook his head.
They moved off.
“I guess I’m dreading seeing Magnus.”
Ethan tried to suppress a smile. “His bark’s worse than his bite.”
They continued on in silence for a minute, the horses stirring up squelching mud in the waterlogged pasture.
“If he takes us off the Global List, Tom wants to sell,” she told him suddenly.
He pulled to a stop. “Sell the lodge?” he asked in surprise.
She shook her head. “The land, not the lodge. He’s never cared about the land.” The desolate expression was back.
“How do you feel about that?”
Lucy gave a barely-there rise of her shoulders. “I’ve always found the house a bit depressing since Mum left. Every minute I could, I’d be out here, riding, camping, just walking. I couldn’t bear it if he sold even an inch of it.”
Ethan scratched his head. What a load on her shoulders at the moment. “You must have a say.”
“I can’t tell him what to do with his fifty per cent.”
He nodded and thought for a few moments. He had nothing to do with Magnus’s club or the Global List, but he knew that Magnus took it very seriously indeed. “I’ll talk to him, but I can’t promise anything. Magnus would probably overlook some things. It’s the hint of financial embarrassment that could be the sticking point. I know he’s heard rumors. The sort of people that belong to the club don’t like rumors.”
Lucy nodded, sighing heavily. Ethan stared at her mouth, wanting to kiss her troubles away. “Lucy, if you’re out of the club, it’s not the end of the world. With the right marketing, you can still run a good business.”
“The prestige of it is a big thing with Tom. But the main reason is the exclusive advertising rights. We won’t have time to build a new market and be able to trade our way out of debt before—before it’s too late.”
He didn’t want to tell her that as far as creditors went, the meat supplier she already knew about was in the basket named peanuts. There was a whole lot worse to come.
“Cheer up. We’ll talk to him tonight and then I can work on Magnus. But if I can’t swing it, I’ll set up something with my marketing team. We can’t get you into all the printed accommodation publications overnight, but there are lots of ways to target your market that get results in months rather than years.”
“Really?” She looked up at him hopefully and his heart squeezed. Tom and her father had kept her down for so long. No wonder her confidence was shot. She needed to know that anything was possible.
She needed to know he would help.
She was already perking up. “Hey, you’re not too bad on that horse, for a city slicker,” she told him with a big grin.
“Kid, I was riding when you were still a twinkle in your daddy’s eye.”
“You reckon?” She laughed and leaned over to give him a playful push. And somehow lost her balance, ending up flat on her back in a pool of mud.
Ethan grabbed Monty’s bridle to bring him to a standstill so he didn’t step on Lucy. “Jesus! You okay?”
She lay there for a couple of seconds, a surprised look on her face. When she started to gurgle with laughter, he relaxed.
“I dare you to laugh.” She gasped.
His mouth tightened with the effort of not smiling. He couldn’t do anything about the sparkle in his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he told her solemnly.
Leaning down, he put out his hand. She grabbed it, but before she hauled herself up out of the mud, she squinted up at him. “You know,” she said, matter-of-factly, “just for a moment, you sitting up there tall enough to touch the sky, you reminded me of my father when I was little.”
He gestured at his hand, indicating she get up. “There’s a worrying thought.”
Lucy giggled as she was hauled up to her feet and stood, swaying slightly with one hand on Monty’s back. She took off one glove and wiped her hair, grimacing at the sludge that appeared on her hand.
“Even with you looking like something the cat dragged in,” Ethan continued as she heaved herself up into the saddle, “I am definitely not harboring any fatherly feelings toward you.”
They arrived back at Summerhill to find the hunters were home, except for Tom who was at the local medical center having his wrist X-rayed. Magnus and Juliette had retired to their suite, both of them exhausted and emotional. The Indonesians seemed to be treating the whole thing as part of their scheduled activity. They sat in front of the fire, poring over the menu for dinner.
Ethan excused himself and went to his room to take a call from his Sydney office.
Clark in Sydney had bad tidings. The minister for the Interior had gone back on his word to consider MagnaCorp’s offer before going public. Turtle Island was now officially on the market.
He sat down in the armchair and stared into the gas fire. Okay, this was the worst-case scenario, but MagnaCorp had the inside running. Ethan had already spent a month on the tender. He was way ahead of the competition. And he had access to all the information and reports Magnus had compiled twenty years ago.
Information that his father would also have on file.
Ethan leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. He couldn’t let Magnus and the team down. He would leave soon. After showering he’d go see if Magnus had emerged. He had only a short time to try to persuade his boss to give Summerhill another chance. To help Lucy find out what the hell was going on with Tom.
A short time to spend every waking minute with her, reassuring her, making love to her.
It was cozy by the fire. His last thoughts before he drifted off to sleep were of Lucy looking around at her embattled heritage with such heartache on her face, and then grinning like a naughty child as she wrung the mud from her hair.
Lucy woke him an hour later. She had filled her bath with bubbles, too many bubbles, and wanted to share….
An hour or two later, her stomach gurgled with hunger—or motion sickness. “I’ll make us a sandwich.”
She tidied the rumpled bed around his drowsy form, doubting he would be awake by the time she got back with the food.
On the way downstairs, her smile faded with each step. She wondered
at how torn she felt. On the one hand, she was infused with the well-being that making love with Ethan brought. On the other, she had a heavy heart. Even after a fun-filled hour of giggling and making an unholy mess of her bathroom and then her bed, she felt a weird sense of loss.
His office had called. He hadn’t said anything about it, but it was a reminder that he had a whole other life out there, one she wasn’t part of. She had to get used to the idea that this little sojourn would soon be over and life would get back to normal.
Lucy wondered if she could ever feel normal again.
Somehow in the last week, her whole perception of herself had undergone radical surgery. She did have something to offer. Instead of letting Tom make all the decisions and ride roughshod over her, she had to persuade him that his half sister had half a brain and wasn’t entirely the ditz he thought she was. Ethan built her up, made her feel smart and sexy, not clumsy and stupid. She felt as if she mattered, even knowing he would not be around for much longer.
And that was killing her. She wanted him around, for a long time. Maybe forever. She was falling hopelessly in love.
“And we all know what that means,” she murmured to the stag’s head at the bottom of the stairs. She had to tell someone, but wasn’t quite masochistic enough to tell the man himself. “That means the next thing I hear will be the sound of his running feet.”
Well, hell! Nothing was forever. He was here now. He’d promised to help. No point getting down about things she couldn’t change.
Forcing a lighter step, she heaped bread and bags of salad vegetables and cheese onto the kitchen counter. She had barely begun when Tom walked in, looking dirty and pale.
Lucy smiled and offered to make him a sandwich. “How’s the wrist?”
He held up his plastered limb. “Hellish sore. How was Magnus?”
She shrugged. “By the time Ethan and I got back, they’d gone up to their room.” She explained they’d been riding, checking out the stock.
“God,” Tom groaned, sitting at the big kauri-wood table, “I have royally screwed up, haven’t I?”
