Out of the Ashes

by Emilie Richards

  "It takes me an hour and fifteen minutes to get to school," Jody said, reaching for another piece of toast. "Sometimes it takes longer. Today it will because of the rain."

  "Do you mind the ride very much?"

  "I pretend I'm a pioneer and the bus is a covered wagon." Jody spread honey on the toast, biting her lip in concentration as she made sure every exposed surface was coated. "I think a covered wagon would be more fun though. Not as bumpy."

  "I know it's a long way, but some of the children travel twice as far as you do."

  "I miss the Academy."

  Alexis swallowed more than her toast. Regret. Bitterness. Jody had left a magnificently equipped private school for the gifted to come to a rural public school where gifted education was unheard of. "I'm sure you do." She rested her hand on Jody's. "But you'll learn things here you never would have learned there."

  "They make me do baby math."

  "They're trying to find what's best for you." Trying with the help of records that Alexis had forged to look as if they had moved from California instead of Michigan. "Do they ever ask you about San Francisco?" she asked, reaching across to wipe Jody's chin.

  "Sometimes. I make up stuff."

  "Not too much, I hope. Someone may actually have been there."

  "I get tired of the game sometimes."

  Alexis's hand lingered at Jody's cheek. "I know you do. But we're starting over. We needed new names, a new place to say we came from. It's a special secret."

  "Are you going to tell Matthew?"

  Alexis sat back. "No. I'm not going to tell anyone."

  "Matthew wouldn't tell anybody."

  Jody was probably right. The man was so isolated, so intentionally alone, that there would be no one for him to tell. "The fewer people who know," she explained, "the better the chance of keeping a secret safe. And that's what we have to do."

  "Because you're afraid of Daddy."

  Alexis had never told Jody that. When her desperate plan had finally fallen into place, and Jody had been spirited out of the country, her explanation had been that it was a game, an important one, and that Jody mustn't tell anyone her real last name or where she was from. Together they had chosen Whitham and San Francisco, Whitham because it had been her grandmother's maiden name, and San Francisco because she and Jody had once been there on vacation. But never had Alexis linked their disappearance to Charles. Jody had just known it, because Jody never missed a thing.

  "Your father was very angry at me," Alexis said carefully in answer. "I think he will be less angry if he just doesn't see us anymore."

  "He was always angry."

  "Not always, Jody. But a lot of the time, I'm afraid."

  "He hit you."

  Alexis looked down at her cereal. "Yes, he did." She thought of Matthew and the way she had reacted yesterday when he had lifted his hand. "Men don't usually hit women, Jody. Your father just couldn't stop himself." It was the most positive thing she could say. She couldn't add that Charles hadn't wanted to hit her, because that would be a lie.

  "Do you think Matthew hits women?"

  "No, I don't think so." Alexis thought of the gentleness she had seen in Matthew's eyes when he'd realized he had frightened her. She remembered the way he had lifted his hand, slowly, so slowly, and held it in front of her. She felt the same jab of humiliation she had felt then. "I'm sure Matthew doesn't hit anyone," she said, standing to clear the table. "And I don't want you worrying about it anymore, either. No one's going to hit anyone here. We're far away from all that."

  "They didn't have kangaroos at home. Except at the zoo. I saw one at a zoo once, and it was losing its fur."

  Alexis set down the dishes she had been collecting and dropped her arms around Jody's neck for a quick hug. She knew the little girl was trying in her own childish way to comfort her and tell her that she would try to be happy here. "No kangaroos and no koalas. There are things to learn here, Jody. We'll be fine."

  Jody suffered her embrace, then twisted free. "I've gotta get my shoes on."

  "Then I'll drive you to the bus stop."

  "Can I wear my new yellow slicker?"

  "May I? Yes, you may."

  "Super!"

  Alexis smiled at the way Jody intoned the word. There was no question that the little girl would adjust to their new life. She was already developing an Australian accent.

  Half an hour later Alexis sat behind the steering wheel, waving goodbye to Jody to the swish-and-clack rhythm of her windshield wipers. Jody had said very little about the other children she had met on the bus, but this morning Alexis was gratified to see that another little girl moved over to make room for her, even though the bus was nearly empty. They both seemed to be giggling by the time the bus pulled away.

  Jody would adjust because she had the resilience of youth. Alexis would adjust because she had no choice. She turned the wagon around in the drive, skidding slightly, and started to head back to the house. Halfway down the rain slick track she stopped. The road was hard to navigate under the best weather conditions. Now, although she was in no danger of being hurt if she skidded, she was in some danger of getting stuck, even with four-wheel drive. The track traversed a region of ancient limestone dunes covered with dense mallee scrub. But beyond the track, in a straight line toward the house, was a thick forest of gum trees and acacias. The acacias were in bloom, their golden blossoms bright spots of sunshine amidst the gray rain.

  On impulse Alexis turned off the engine and grabbed her slicker, a twin to Jody's, and matching southwester. Outside, the rain was still falling, but it was a fine rain and warm enough that she wasn't instantly chilled. The renewed earth smelled richly fertile, like a tropical rain forest. And even the common pink and gray galahs that called from the gum trees seemed wildly exotic.

  Alexis was well into the forest before she realized she was walking back to the house because she wanted to. She laughed a little and wondered why she'd had to rationalize leaving the wagon on the road. She was responsible to no one. After a life of doing what was expected of her, nothing was expected. She didn't need to make excuses for taking a walk in the rain. She didn't need to answer to anyone.

  She slowed her pace, enjoying the smells and feel of the spring rain. Bees buzzed around the acacias and the low-lying multicolored blossoms that carpeted the forest floor. One scarlet bottlebrush seemed to hum with life as the bees were drawn to its brilliant color. She hadn't been on the island long, but she knew the bees were its pride. They were the only pure Ligurian bees left in the world. Valued for their gentle nature and golden color, they were a resource for beekeepers everywhere.

  She walked on, face turned to the sky. The rain was washing away her worries. She had lived her life in Detroit's suburbs. A day in the country had meant a drive to some quaint town for lunch and poking through antique stores. She had never milked a cow, planted a vegetable, or gotten up with the roosters. Nor had she wanted to. Now she was beginning to understand what she had missed. Perhaps she wasn't here by her own choice, but being here might—as she had told Jody—teach her something.

  She wondered what being here had taught Matthew. He was a man at home in the Australian bush. For all she knew he had never lived anywhere except the island. Yet there was nothing simple or unpolished about him. He was a strong man, and she suspected he had once been a gentle man.

  He had been gentle with her yesterday.

  Alexis hated herself for ducking, for covering her face with her hands when she'd been afraid he was going to strike her. She was not a coward. She had lived through an ordeal that a coward couldn’t have faced. But that ordeal had changed her. She wondered what Matthew had thought. Twice he had seen her at her worst. And once she had dared to tell him that his grief was misplaced.

  In spite of all those things, yesterday he had sat in the shade of a sugar gum forest and talked about the animals around them. He had been a different man then, talking about the job that he loved. He hadn't smiled, but his eyes had been warmer, hi
s body more relaxed. And Jody had sat beside him, openly hanging on every word.

  He had said goodbye soon after, but not before Jody had asked if they could visit him again. His emotions didn't show on his strictly controlled face. She sensed that part of him wanted to be rid of both the little girl who asked too many questions and the woman who cowered, and part of him wanted their company. She wondered now if those two parts still battled, or if he had thrust them out of his mind, going his solitary way once more.

  It didn't really matter, because there was no room in her life for Matthew or any man. No one else should be asked to live in her private hell. Perhaps if a year went by, and then another, she would know she was safe. Then, and only then, could she think about her future. Now she had to take one day at a time. And those days would have to be taken alone.

  She crossed through a stand of smaller trees, trees stunted once by fire or storm. Overhead the sun was trying to break through, and the rain had slowed until it was no more than a heavy mist. She was gazing up through the trees, hand shading her eyes, when she saw the koala. It clung to the top of a gum tree as if it were a statue. She would never have noticed if she hadn't been looking directly above her. And even then she wasn't sure for a moment that the animal was real.

  When the statue came to life, however, when it began to snort and wheeze like a wild boar and sway from side to side, she knew. She was entranced with the performance, almost as if the teddy bear that Jody had so loved as a baby had come to life above her. This koala was different from the one who had lain in her yard staring at her with wide, accusing eyes. This koala was alive and full of vitality, and he was putting on quite a show.

  "Looking for a lady friend?" she called to him. "You might need to try the park."

  The koala continued to sway, his occasional snorts the percussion section of a magpie symphony from the next tree. Alexis stood below admiring his gray brown coat and white ruff. She had a sudden vision of the fur wrapped around the shoulders of a viciously bored socialite, and she shuddered.

  She had been right to stay here. There was little she could do to prevent poachers from killing the koalas, but there was no doubt in her mind that her presence would make them wary. And if she patrolled the area each day, walked the land looking for signs of poaching, they would be warier still. Koala fur was not worth the risk of harming an innocent person, even to supremely selfish men. It was certainly not worth the possibility of getting caught in the act.

  She lifted her head to tell the koala she planned to do what she could when a shot rang out. It slammed through the wood of a nearby tree, silencing the magpies and her own planned speech. Instead Alexis screamed, a clear, high scream that echoed through the grove until it seemed as if a chorus of women's voices was responsible.

  "Jay—sus! Where'd she come from?"

  The thickly Australian voice drifted down to Alexis from a low hill to her left. They were the only words she heard. By then she had plastered herself against the gum tree, and the pounding of her own heart drowned out everything else.

  Had she really believed she could make a difference? Frantically she tried to decide what she should do next. Her bright yellow slicker and hat made her an easy target—a fact that could be good or bad depending on the poacher's intentions. Taking no chances, she unbuckled the slicker and dropped it to the ground, following it closely with her southwester. The rain had picked up again, and she was soaked immediately, but she didn't care. Above her the koala snorted once, then grew silent.

  Alexis ran to the next tree, keeping it between her and the hill where the man's voice had come from. There were no more shots as she made her way from tree to tree. There were only the sounds of her footsteps and her heart pounding in her ears. The forest began to change subtly. The gum trees began to give way to mallee and scrub as she neared the house. She ran past the ruins of a barn and the overgrown thicket that had once been a pasture. Over a slight rise she saw the house, a weathered haven that promised safety if she could just reach it. She was almost there when she heard a roar. For one agonizing moment she believed it was another gunshot. Then she realized it was the backfiring of a car. She stopped at the base of the last gum tree before the clearing in front of the house and listened to the car speed away.

  Then, in the far distance, carried over the sound of falling rain, she heard the snort wheeze of the koala. And in the tree overhead, she heard the second movement of a magpie symphony.

  * * *

  MATTHEW KNEW BETTER than to drive the island roads like a Grand Prix racetrack. But today knowledge was no deterrent. He gripped the steering wheel of his ute tightly in his hands, expertly speeding back and forth across the road to avoid the worst ruts. He gripped the steering wheel so hard it was in danger of snapping into pieces.

  He wished the steering wheel had been the neck of the man who had dared to fire a gun in Alexis's direction.

  It was a miracle he had been at the station when she called. He had awakened before dawn, as always, but it wasn't Jeannie he had thought of first. He had awakened thinking of Alexis. In his dreams he had moved to touch her, and she had thrown her hands in front of her face for protection.

  The dream had been as subtle as a cockatoo's crest. He might as well have stayed awake all night brooding over the episode in his kitchen. He had frightened her yesterday, and frightened her good. But then, Harry had told him he was becoming a frightening man.

  Now she was frightened again. Luckily the phone had rung just as he had come in from the hike meant to scare away visions of a woman with her hands in front of her face. He had come in to shower and change out of his wet clothes, and suddenly new, more frightening visions had taken over. Visions of Alexis shot and bleeding in a grove of gum trees. Visions of Alexis crying for help when there was no one for miles to help her.

  He slammed the palm of his hand against the steering wheel in helpless anger. The ute jumped in response, and he had to fight to keep it on the road, but the fight chased away visions of Alexis dying because she was too stubborn to move away.

  He slowed just before the turnoff to the Bartow farm, then stopped to investigate tire tracks. As he had feared, the rain had washed away any evidence that might have helped pinpoint the poacher's vehicle. There were signs that a ute or car of some sort had been there, but even as he stooped beside the faint tracks that were still visible, they dissolved into puddles.

  "Damn the rain!" Matthew got back in his ute and started down the track. As he drove he cursed the first Bartows who had tried to eke a living from this infertile piece of ground. Why had they chosen a spot so remote that camelback would have been the preferred method of getting there? And why had Alexis come to live here now?

  Halfway to the house he came to her wagon parked squarely in the middle of the road. He revved his engine, then widened the track to get around it by flattening bushes with his wheels. He went on, expertly taking the twists and turns of the remaining track without a pause for ruts or potholes.

  Alexis was waiting on the porch, gazing toward the grove of gum trees as if staring alone could prevent certain death for the koala. She had been inside for only a moment, and that had been to call Matthew. She hadn't changed; she hadn't showered. She had come back outside and listened for the sound of a gunshot.

  Now she steeled herself not to run to him. Who was he but a stranger, a man she'd already involved in her life too many times?

  "What are you doing out here?" he demanded, leaping down from his seat.

  "Waiting for you. Waiting for another gunshot."

  He stared at her as if she'd gone crazy. "You're dripping wet, woman. And you must be freezing!"

  Alexis looked down and saw he was right. She was wearing a cotton shirt and pants, and the cloth was thin enough that it clung to each place it touched. She pulled the blouse away from her chest, only to feel it settle against her once more as soon as she'd dropped her hand. She shivered, cold, frightened, angry. "He shot at that poor koala, and I was right there!
If I hadn't been, he'd be dead!"

  "And if his aim had been worse," he paused for effect, "or better, you'd be dead!"

  "He wasn't after me." Alexis watched Matthew climb the stairs. She knew he was angry, and she could understand why. "He could have shot me if he'd wanted to. But he didn't know I was there until I screamed. I heard him ask where I'd come from."

  He stopped a few feet from her. Her eyes were wide, and he could see her tremble. But she stood straight, her shoulders thrown back, her chin up. It was her courage that finally wrenched a groan from him. "Come here," he said, stepping toward her.

  She wasn't sure who moved first, whether Matthew came to meet her or she went to him. She only knew that in a moment she was in his arms, held tightly against the rough oilcloth of his raincoat. She clasped her arms loosely around his waist and collapsed against him.

  "You little fool, you could have been killed."

  "I didn’t ask him to come, Matthew. And I didn't know he was there."

  One hand lifted to stroke her hair. It hovered over the fine gold mass for long seconds before he tentatively touched her. Her hair felt like the choicest silk, cool and damp against his fingertips, but soft and slippery, too. It was different from Jeannie's hair. Jeannie's had been thick and curly, springing back as he touched it. Alexis's was more like a child's.

  But she didn't feel like a child against him.

  "You're wishing you'd never heard of me."

  His hand paused at the nape of her neck, and he kept her head pressed close to his chest. "Mind reading?"

  "I don't normally cause this much trouble for people I don't know."

  "I think we've graduated to the 'people I know' stage."

  "I'm so sorry I've involved you again. But I didn't know who else to call. Who should I call?"

  He wanted to tell her to call anyone but him. He wanted to push her away, tell her to get out of his life.

  He wanted to kiss her.

  Matthew felt a shudder run through his body, and he didn't know whose it was.

  He shut his eyes, but he didn't release her. "The island police know about the poachers. There's little they can do. We're expected to keep them informed and take care of it ourselves until we have any real information."