He didn't want to be involved. He didn't want to care about this child or her mother. But something had changed tonight, and what he wanted was no longer as important as it once had been.
"You were fighting," Jody said finally, rebelliously. "Don't you hurt my mother."
Matthew didn't try to reassure her. He didn't reach across the table to pat her hand or ruffle her hair. He just waited until she looked up at him. Then he spoke. "Aren't you going to ask me about your koala?"
"Is that why you're here?"
"In a way. I was checking to be sure no other animals were hurt. And I saw that your mother was up."
"Is my koala all right?"
"When I left this evening, he was sitting in the crook of a tree in our enclosure, and he was nibbling leaves. I'd say that was a very good sign."
"Then he'll be well soon?"
"Harry thinks he will be. And Harry knows how to take care of all the animals in the park."
"Harry?"
"Harry Arnold. He's a ranger, too."
"I'd never been to the park until yesterday."
Alexis set milk in front of the little girl. She took Matthew's cup to refill it, then returned and handed it to him before she seated herself. "We intended to go before," she added, embroidering on what Jody had said. "But we've been busy settling in."
"That takes a while. You've just been here a few weeks."
"Almost a month. Jody's in school already, though. And between school and the bus ride back and forth. . ."
"You haven't had much time." Matthew was uncomfortable with the casual conversation in a way that he hadn't been with the earlier eruption of feelings. That had been white-hot pain. This was slow torture. He had forgotten how to conduct small talk, and the realization shamed him.
"There were kangaroos right outside your door," Jody remembered out loud. "Lots of them. And ostriches."
"Emus," he corrected. "I'm afraid they're a spoiled lot. They're not that friendly in the wild. But protected as they are at the park, they've grown tame."
"I'd like to see them again."
"The park's open every day."
"When can we come, then?"
Matthew realized the little girl was waiting for an invitation. It was one thing to force himself to converse with her to reassure her. It was another thing to invite her to visit him at the park. He glanced at Alexis. She was leaning on folded hands, gazing at her mug. Her fine blond hair swung forward to veil her eyes, but he knew what he would see if they were visible.
"Why not tomorrow?" Matthew held up his watch, then shook his head. "Today, actually. But after the sun comes up a bit. You can see for yourself how your friend is doing."
"He'll need me to tell him everything's all right," Jody said gravely.
"I knew a little boy once who talked to animals," Matthew said.
"Did the animals talk back?"
"At times it seemed they did." Matthew shoved his chair back. The kitchen suddenly seemed too small, the hour too late, life too painful. "I'll be going now."
Alexis stood, too. She tried to catch his gaze, but he didn't look at her. "Thank you, Matthew. For everything."
He nodded, heading for the door. "Lock this after me," he reminded her.
"I'll be sure to." Alexis followed him, then watched as he strode down the steps and disappeared into the shadows once more.
Jody spoke from just behind her. "I thought that he was mad. Like Daddy."
Alexis locked the door, then faced her daughter. "And what do you think now?"
"I think he's crying inside. Like you."
Alexis groaned, then swept her daughter into her arms. "You know too much," she said, hugging her tightly. "You see too much."
"I only see what's there, Mommy," Jody said, fiercely returning the hug.
* * *
"THE LITTLE GIRL will be glad to know the koala's fine." Matthew stood, hands on hips, gazing through the tall, wire mesh enclosure, where the koala in question roosted comfortably on a tree branch, chewing eucalyptus leaves.
"Righto. He's a dinkum survivor, that one. By all rights he should be a pelt in someone's winter coat." Harry Arnold closed the enclosure door behind him and stepped away. "I'll just be glad when he's out of here, I will. Trying to find enough young leaves low enough for me to reach is a test."
"He'll migrate again, as soon as we let him out."
Harry stopped, shook his head, then adjusted the nearly invisible hearing aid he was wearing. "I missed that."
"I said he'll migrate again, as soon as we let him out."
Harry nodded. "It's a chance we'll have to take. He wasn't meant to live in a cage, that's for certain."
"He wasn't meant to die at the end of a rifle, either."
Harry clapped Matthew on the back in silent agreement.
The morning sunshine had burned off the chill that had made Matthew's nighttime vigil so uncomfortable. Now the sun hung directly overhead, blocked only by the forest of tall gum trees behind the rangers' homestead where both Matthew and Harry had their houses. Matthew lifted his face to one ray of sun that pierced the thick foliage.
"The little girl and her mother might come today to see the koala."
Harry's hand went to his hearing aid, then dropped to his side before he could make an adjustment. "That so? You've been talking to them, have you?"
"I prowled the property last night to see if the poachers returned. The woman was up, and she saw me. I'm afraid I terrified her."
"You've become a terrifying man."
Normally, Matthew could block out Harry's comments. Harry was the one person he hadn't been able to retreat from, but he had learned to ignore anything personal lobbed his way. Now he found himself wondering if the older man was right.
He heard the slam of a door and turned to see Alexis and Jody getting out of their wagon. "Not terrifying enough to keep them away, apparently."
Harry turned at Matthew's words, and his eyes widened in appreciation. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't remember you saying she was beautiful."
"That hardly seemed relevant."
"No? I can appreciate a beautiful woman."
"You can appreciate any woman."
"That was almost a joke, mate. Keep it up and you'll smile again, too."
Matthew glared, and Harry shook his head. "You haven't forgotten how," he told Matthew. "You've just forgotten why."
"Leave it, Harry. You presume too much."
"I presume you won't come unstuck when you hear the truth," Harry said, not at all offended. "I presume you're a right strong bloke."
"And you're a meddlesome busybody—"
"With an eye for a pretty face." The model of aging charm, Harry stepped forward to meet the two females. "G'day. I'm Harry Arnold, Matthew's superior. In every way."
Alexis saw twinkling hazel eyes, a full head of hair the color of sea foam, and a gnarled hand extended in welcome. Behind Harry she saw Matthew. He was scowling. She wished she hadn't come.
She held out her hand to Harry anyway. "Alexis Whitham, and this is my daughter, Jody."
"I believe there's someone here who knows you, Jody," Harry said, extending his hand to the child. "Would you like to go in the enclosure and visit?"
Jody nodded gravely. Harry put his arm around Jody's shoulders, chatting as he did, to guide her to the door. In a moment, the two of them had stepped inside.
"I'm glad you suggested this," Alexis said, speaking to Matthew for the first time since her arrival. "Now Jody will be sure the koala's all right."
Matthew didn't know how to answer her. He was uncomfortably aware of how beautiful she was, a fact he had been almost able to ignore until Harry had made a point of it. He had a sudden vision of the middle of the night when he had held her in his arms. He remembered the feel of her breasts against his chest, the fragility of her bones, the springtime fragrance of her hair. He remembered how strange, how wrong, it had felt to hold her.
She was wearing pink, a full skirt and
blouse the same delicate shade as the blossom of the common heath that blanketed parts of the island. Her hair was pushed behind her ears to reveal tiny pearls, which were her only adornment, and she was smiling tentatively. He didn't know what to say.
Alexis reached out and touched his arm. The touch lingered, even though she withdrew her hand immediately. "I'm sorry about last night," she said softly. "I had no right to say the things I did. Nobody can understand someone else’s pain."
"Do you always say exactly what you think?"
"Almost never. Particularly not to strangers."
"When I woke up this morning, the world was still spinning."
She smiled her gratitude. "It continues to do that, doesn't it? No matter what we fear."
He wanted to know what she feared. For the first time he found he really wanted to know. Why was she here? What had brought her from her native land to settle on a remote Australian island? Who had she feared was stalking her last night? But he could ask none of his questions. Already he knew she guarded her privacy as much as he did.
"Have you and the child eaten?" he asked instead.
Alexis heard "the child" and knew that Matthew was still refusing to give Jody a name. "We ate breakfast late. We both slept in."
"When she's done inspecting the koala, I'll put some things together for a picnic."
Alexis wasn't sure which of them was the more surprised at his offer. "You're sure it won't be too much trouble?"
"I'll keep it simple. But she'll enjoy eating in the picnic area. We've fenced the tables off from the roos so they won't nab food."
Alexis fell silent. From the cage she could hear Jody talking to the koala, explaining why he was there and how long he'd have to stay. Matthew was listening, too.
"She's certain he understands," he said when Jody had finished.
"She's certain about everything," Alexis said wryly. "And when she finds out she's been wrong, she's certain it wasn't her fault."
Harry emerged first, followed at last by Jody. "I told him I'd come back," Jody told her mother. "So we have to come, or he'll think I've been lying to him."
"That could set back koala-human diplomacy a hundred years," Alexis said, ruffling Jody's hair.
"I mean it!"
"I know you do. And we'll come back to check on him again," Alexis promised.
"That's a bright little girl you've got," Harry informed her.
She hid a smile. There was always someone who had to point out Jody's abilities, as if they were afraid she had never noticed. "Thank you, but bright's not as important as kind. I didn't hear a thank you, Jody."
Jody dutifully thanked the rangers, but her brown eyes were already darting back and forth, looking for new worlds to conquer. "Can I see the kangaroos now?"
"Why don't you take Jody to the picnic area," Matthew pointed through the trees, "and let her pet the roos? I'll be over in a few minutes with something to eat."
"I'll take her over," Harry offered. "Mrs. Whitham can help you get organized."
Alexis saw refusal flicker across Matthew's features.
"If you don't need my help—" she began.
"It'll be good for him," Harry said, interrupting. "Four hands are better than two, I always say."
"If you always say it, why haven't I heard it before?" Matthew asked. Harry touched his hearing aid, as if he couldn't understand what Matthew had said. Grunting, Matthew motioned for Alexis to follow him.
She was sorry the spontaneous offer of a picnic was being spoiled by new tension. Hurrying to match her shorter stride to Matthew's, she caught up with him. "Please wait," she said, breathing harder by the time she was at his side. "Tell me what you want me to do. I'll be happy to wait at the picnic grounds if you'd rather I didn't come inside."
He almost asked her to do just that. But he had a sudden vision of a man who had rarely allowed anyone into his house or life for three long years. The man was him.
"I could use the help." He slowed his pace, accommodating it to hers. "But I'll warn you, my kitchen's not as cheery as yours."
"Oh, I can make do, I think."
She was walking right beside him, and once again he was aware of the light floral scent he had noticed the night before. Hyacinths or wild flowers. He wasn't sure; he only knew it suited her, as did the pink she wore. She was a woman who wasn't afraid to be feminine, and he was a man who was trying not to appreciate it.
At his porch, he opened the door and held it for her. She slipped under his arm and stood in the hallway. "Old and cool and comfortable," she said.
"Old and cool and in need of a good tidying." He led the way down the hall.
Alexis followed, keeping her eyes straight ahead. Anything else seemed almost like a violation.
"I was planning for this to be simple," he told her when hey reached the kitchen. "Cheese and fruit. Some biscuits."
"More than enough." Alexis took in the kitchen in one glance. Small and recently updated, it was almost antiseptic in its ungarnished simplicity. She wasn't sure what she lad expected. Mementos of his marriage, perhaps. Faded, yellowing drawings done by a child's hand. Pieces of wedding china lovingly displayed. Instead his former life was conspicuous by its absence. This room belonged to a man alone. She was sure if she opened the cupboards she would find one cup, one saucer, one knife and fork.
"Why don't you wash the grapes?"
She started, and her eyes flashed to his. He was watching her, and he knew what she'd been thinking. Silently he dared her to comment.
"Are they in the refrigerator?" she asked.
He nodded, then turned away. Alexis opened the refrigerator door. The grapes were almost the only food inside. "Don't you sometimes long for a supermarket you can walk to?" She stopped and gave a quick laugh. "Or do Australians even have supermarkets?"
"You haven't been to our cities, then."
"Just to change planes." Alexis knew they were getting uncomfortably close to discussing her past. She sought a way to change the subject, but Matthew continued it.
"I imagine you're used to more variety than you can get in Parndana."
Since Parndana—the place of little gums—was the closest town, a mere thirty-five miles away, Alexis knew Matthew would shop there, too. The trip was so rough, however, that she was sure that, like her, he didn't shop often.
"A great deal more variety. But I can always go in to Kingscote when I get feeling too cramped."
"You could fly into Adelaide."
She couldn't, although she wasn't going to tell him so. Adelaide, on the mainland, was one of Australia's bigger cities. And tourists, American tourists, stuck to cities. She was safer here. Even Kingscote, Kangaroo Island's largest town, with a population of 1200, was a risk. "I could," she lied. "It helps to remember that."
The grapes were washed and the cheese sliced in silence. Alexis was surprised at how efficiently she and Matthew worked together, although the room seemed too small for both of them. Matthew was a large man, and he seemed larger here, where he took up all his space and a portion of hers. It was difficult to ignore him, to disregard his lean strength, the economical way he used his body. It was difficult not to notice that when he stood close to her, he warmed the cool temperature of the kitchen.
Matthew finished his preparations, taking care not to brush Alexis, not to linger too long near her. He remembered nights when he had fixed meals with Jeannie here, nights when they had laughed and kissed and touched.
The memories made Alexis more of a stranger and, also, somehow more desirable.
Jeannie was dead. Perhaps he wasn't.
Matthew's knife clattered against the counter, and he snatched his bleeding finger to his mouth to silence the curse he wanted badly to utter.
"Oh, you've cut yourself." Alexis dropped the plastic bag she had been sealing to move to his side. She reached for his hand automatically, cradling it in her own. "Let me see."
He wanted to push her away and raised his other hand sharply, in fact, to do just t
hat.
It was then that he saw the fear in her eyes. Alexis stepped back with a low cry, and her hands blocked her face in an age-old gesture of self-preservation.
She had been beaten. Someone had beaten her as if she were a stray dog! Matthew's own feelings were suddenly meaningless. His hands dropped to his sides. He felt powerless to help her, powerless to take back the gesture that had frightened her so. He wanted to grab her and hold her against him, whisper reassurances against her pale blond hair, drive away her fears with his own strength. But he couldn’t, not without frightening her more. He gave her a moment to see that he had meant no harm; then, as he moved toward her, he lifted his injured hand slowly, carefully.
Alexis had recovered by then. Her shoulders were thrown back, her hands at her sides. But her eyes held residues of fear and humiliation. He lifted his hand in front of her and watched her struggle not to flinch.
"I'm used to taking care of myself," he said with a gentleness he hadn't used with another person since Jeanne's death. "I might have stopped you from coddling me, but I would never have hurt you."
Her cheeks flushed. "You just startled me."
He nodded, although he knew she was lying. "Have you ever tried to bandage your own fingers?" He attempted a smile and failed.
Alexis swallowed. She wanted to cry; she wanted to run away. "Not lately."
"It's damnably hard to do. Maybe it wouldn't be coddling if you could help me."
She heard the gentleness and saw the smile that wouldn't come. She swallowed again, and the lump of tears dissolved. "Maybe not."
"I'll get a plaster."
He turned slowly, then left the room.
Alexis watched him go and wondered why she had run all the way across the world to escape Charles, when Charles and the evil he had done were still living deep inside her.
Chapter 4
MONDAY MORNING DAWNED cool and fog-shrouded. By the time Alexis finished helping Jody get ready for school and prepared breakfast, rain had fallen, washing the fine film of dust from a week of dry days into the Sou' West River and Hanson Bay. Over cereal and toast, she and Jody watched white capped breakers crashing against the bay's white sand beach, stirred by a rising wind.
Out of the Ashes Page 4
