Shadows of wildstone, p.14
Shadows of Wildstone, page 14
A few more days, and she’d be gone.
And he could get on with living a solitary life, with Jet for company.
Jumping behind the wheel of his Troopy and heading towards the station, he watched the township slowly waking up as the sun cast long shadows over the streets lined with stories and secrets. One such story could be written on Rhonda and Donna’s house; the lovebirds and their inherited home were an integral part of the community’s history. The cottage had been the only structure left standing after a storm flattened the township back in the goldrush days. It had been refurbished several times to bring it into its modern-day glory, making it more than just a house—it was a vessel for collective memories. Every local in Wildstone knew of the place, and told stories, true and fictitious, about its past. But today, as he took the corner, much to his horror he saw a new chapter in the story of the house, which appeared to have been flooded. A running deluge had transformed the once proud front lawn into a soggy mess, swamping Rhonda and Donna’s beloved garden. And there wasn’t a soul in sight trying to curb it.
As he pulled to a quick stop out front, he felt the weight of his role and the expectation that he should make things right. After killing the engine, he jumped out and strode through shallow waters towards the besieged house. Quickly climbing the front steps, he marched across the verandah and was about to knock when the front door was flung open.
‘Oh, my gosh, Caleb, thank god.’ Donna tugged her robe around her. ‘I was just about to call you. Well, not you exactly, but the station, for help.’ She waved a frazzled hand. ‘You get the drift.’
‘Hey, Donna.’ Movement caught his gaze, and he lifted his attention to a stomping, stone-faced Rhonda. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Looks like we have ourselves a busted water main.’ Retying the belt of her matching terry-towelling robe, Rhonda bustled past Donna. ‘I’ve just turned the main taps off, and I’ve left a message for the plumber, who apparently has gone fishing for a week up in Darwin.’ She huffed and rolled her eyes. ‘Lord knows when his offsider will get the message. Knowing Gazza, he’ll be nursing a hangover after pulling an all-nighter at the rodeo campgrounds.’
‘Okay, well, maybe I can have a look at it for you?’ He didn’t know the first thing about burst water mains, but he’d give it a good crack.
‘That’d be wonderful, Caleb, thank you, but first we need you to save our little moggy from up there.’ Her hand going to his arm, she squeezed tightly as she pointed upward. ‘We only got him from the animal refuge three days ago, bless his little kitten socks.’ Her worried expression turned woeful. ‘Gingernut has landed safe and dry on the roof, thankfully, but for the life of us we can’t seem to coax him down.’
‘Right, first things first then.’ Caleb followed the two women through the well-loved house and out to the back deck.
And there, atop the roof, sat a small ginger cat—a tiny figure against the vast expanse of emerging blue sky. Its pitiful meows echoed off the adjacent houses, calling out for rescue. He took in all the details in a matter of seconds, his eyes trained on the precarious position of the kitten near the edge of the sloping roof. Its fur bristled in the wind, making it appear larger than it was. But its fear was evident in its wide eyes, and although he was a dog lover to his very core, the sight tugged tightly at his heartstrings. This tiny creature was counting on him, and he wouldn’t let it down.
‘Stay right there, buddy.’ Caleb rolled his shoulders back and began to strategise. ‘I’m coming to get you.’ He looked to the two panic-stricken women, who were more worried about their cat than their yard. ‘Do you have a ladder I can use?’
Rhonda shook her head. ‘Afraid not.’
He took a breath and looked to the tree beside the house. ‘Right, well, option two will have to do.’ He half grimaced, half smiled. ‘Lucky I learnt to climb trees as a young lad, hey.’
‘That was a while ago, Caleb,’ Donna chuckled nervously. ‘You sure you still can?’
‘I’m sure it’s like riding a bike.’ Caleb offered her a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry, I got this.’
This task would require finesse, not force. And he knew he had to be gentle. He was also aware this tiny meowing package had claws, and he was possibly about to feel the wrath of the kitten as he sought to save it. No pain, no gain. Using all his strength, each of his movements was deliberate and calculated as he scaled one branch at a time. Reaching the top, he paused to catch his breath and acclimate himself to the height and slope. His gaze flicked across to Nyah’s childhood home—the place that still held a secret—and then to William Keller’s backyard that bordered both houses at the rear fence line. A shed sagged perilously to one side of it, reminding him somehow of the unresolved pain that seemed to linger within the reclusive schoolteacher. His mother’s death the year before had taken a huge toll on him, and Caleb couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man who’d taught him in primary school.
Turning his gaze back to where duty called, he gripped the edges of the roof with careful movements as he made his way onto the corrugated Colorbond, his boots thankfully finding secure footing on the rough surface. The kitten, sensing his approach, let out a low growl and tensed up even more with fear.
‘Hey there, little buddy,’ Caleb said softly, extending a gentle hand. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’ He inched closer, every muscle coiled and ready to react. ‘Come on,’ he encouraged. ‘Let’s get you back home, huh.’
The kitten blinked, seemingly considering his offer, and Caleb used the moment to shuffle even nearer. With a patience honed from years of handling human emergencies, he stopped and waited for the feline to make its decision, ready to lend a tender hand or chase after it if it bolted. He prayed it wasn’t the latter. Seconds ticked by as a precarious dance unfolded between man and miniature beast. He cautiously inched forward, and the kitten inched back, and that continued on painful repeat. Finally backed into a corner of the roofing, the tiny moggy, a creature of instinct and agility, seemed to pause and weigh up its options. Caleb smiled to himself. He understood the importance of trust in situations like this, knowing that gentle patience was needed to bridge the gap between fear and safety.
So he waited, and waited some more, until the kitten took a tiny step forward.
‘Easy there,’ he murmured, his voice soothing. ‘Come to me, little one.’ He extended a steady hand and in a sudden shift, the kitten surrendered its defiance with a small mewl as it stepped tentatively towards him.
Time stood still for a moment, filled with potential for either triumph or heartbreak.
And then contact—the soft brush of fur against skin, the warmth of human fingers cradling a tiny body. To Donna and Rhonda’s cheers of delight, Caleb held the kitten securely against his chest, a surge of relief coursing through his veins. Then, slowly, carefully, measuredly, he descended bit by bit, mirroring his earlier ascent, each step well thought out until solid ground welcomed him and his fluffy newfound friend back to earth.
Next up, he needed to look at the busted pipe and see what he could do.
Then, and only then, would he head into the station.
Hopefully leaving Donna and Rhonda with running water, a happy kitten tucked safely inside the house, and a draining yard that would recover from the deluge.
* * *
Feeling as if she were floating then falling, Nyah tried to slow her ragged breath. She felt helpless, lost, echoingly hollow. The warm air clung to her like a heavy cloak, seeping into her bones and weighing her rhythmic steps. Lost in her thoughts, she slowed her jog to a speedy walk as she followed the route around the outskirts of the township, surrounded by the lively beginning of another day—the cries of birds overhead, the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the distant laughter of children. But even amid this vibrant scene, she couldn’t shake the knot tightening in her gut as a shadow flickered at the edge of her vision. It was a fleeting movement that could’ve been nothing more than a trick of light, yet she felt a prickling sensation crawling up her spine. Terrified to stop, or look over her shoulder, she quickened her pace again, while trying to dismiss her unease as paranoia. But as she hurried along, her long curls bouncing with each step, she sensed something was off—a shift in the atmosphere, footsteps echoing hers.
‘Excuse me,’ she muttered distractedly as she brushed past a couple strolling before her, their leisurely pace a luxury she couldn’t afford. Not when her every sense was on high alert, and every rustle or snap was causing her heart to race faster still.
Approaching a sharp bend in the path, she blinked back hot tears. It was exhausting, this constant vigilance against the shadows that followed her, when all she craved was peace. She needed to be strong. She needed to hold herself together. But then she felt the chilling presence again, more foreboding, increasingly suffocating. Someone was following her. She was sure of it. And just when she felt herself succumbing to her terrifying solitude and her speedily increasing suspicion, she saw him up ahead, the man who always made her feel safe, and her racing pulse steadied at the sight.
‘Hi, Love,’ Caleb called out as he approached in his training gear. ‘Fancy seeing you on the trail. Great morning for it, hey.’ His easy smile was a balm to her frayed nerves.
‘Hi,’ Nyah breathed out, relief mingling with her words. ‘It sure is.’
Catching his breath, he tipped his head to catch her flittering gaze. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Yeah, no, sort of.’ She half shrugged. ‘I keep feeling as if I’m being followed, but I reckon it’s just my mother’s ghost, coming back to haunt me.’ She tried to laugh off her unease.
From the sombre look on his face, Caleb wasn’t buying it. He glanced over her shoulder, as if searching for her apparent stalker, then back at her. ‘How about I turn around and join you on the rest of your run?’
Oh, how she loved this man. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yup, I’ve got to head back to the station at some point, so I can shower and get ready for my shift.’
‘If you’re okay with it, I’d love you to, thanks, Hart.’ Her smile was filled with relief.
As Caleb fell into step beside her, she felt her imagined threats fade away. His closeness was a shield against the unfounded fears that consumed her. In his company, the world seemed less ominous, and she couldn’t help but feel grateful for his presence.
‘How are you going?’ he asked, genuine concern in his brown eyes as he flicked her a sideways glance.
‘Much better now,’ she admitted with a small smile as they continued down the footpath together.
‘That’s good to hear.’ His radiant smile outshone the bright morning sunshine.
As they jogged side by side, in sync with each other’s rhythm, admiration unfurled within Nyah’s chest. Here was a man who deserved the world and more, a man who could have his pick of women, and yet, even after everything, he still loved her. And she still loved him. As they turned around a corner that would lead them back into town, there was a silent exchange as their eyes met, the glance fleeting but laden with unspoken words. The moment stretched, tenuous as a sunbeam piercing storm clouds, illuminating the contours of a bond that had weathered much and yet promised so much more. Nyah bit back a gushing I’m so in love with you, Caleb Hart. She couldn’t do that to him, go and put him in such an impossible place just because she felt as if she was going to burst if she held it in much longer. But not saying anything was killing her. How were they meant to keep ignoring something so powerful, so beautiful, so natural?
Reaching the shoe shop that signalled the beginning of the main street, they slowed their steps, and yet Nyah’s pulse raced faster. She didn’t want him to go now they’d finished their impromptu morning jog.
‘Do you have time to grab a coffee before you start work?’ she asked before thinking better of it, keen for a resounding yes from the lips she was aching to kiss.
‘I sure do, so that sounds like a plan, Ny.’ Caleb’s smile was a soft curve.
‘Great.’ Halting, she met his gaze, and within that suspended second, she glimpsed a future unfettered by the chains of her past.
‘Do you want to go to Hope’s, for our cuppa?’ He checked his watch. ‘She’ll definitely be open by now.’
‘I, um…’ Now she was glitching, fragmenting, the words she was aching to say were tumbling around her mind as if swept up by a whirlwind.
‘Nyah, did you hear what I just said?’
‘Sorry, no, I…’ She shook her head, trying to get rid of the wooziness.
Caleb’s hands reached to hold hers. ‘You’re worrying me, Ny.’
‘I can’t, I don’t…’ She tried to say more but couldn’t form a sentence.
‘I know what it is, because I feel it too.’ Gently squeezing her hands, he waited for her to look at him. ‘I want you, Nyah Love, more than anything I’ve ever wanted.’ His deep voice wavered, then rippled, as if travelling over water.
‘I want you, too, with all of my heart, and then some.’ Her voice was a whisper.
‘Then let’s stop ignoring what’s right in front of us.’ It was a promise that rang with the weight of certainty. ‘I can’t let you go back to Cairns without me, Ny.’ He blinked faster, as if warding off tears. ‘I can’t bear the thought of living without you.’
‘But Caleb.’ Frozen in time, Nyah tried to decipher the mixture of emotions swirling deep within. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’
‘Of course, yes.’ His passionate smile, filled with assurance, was knee-buckling.
Feeling as if she were plummeting now, as though she’d just dived off a cliff edge, she shook her head, unable to believe him. ‘You want to leave the job you love, and move to Cairns with me? Just like that? As if it’s easy.’
‘Yes, I do.’ His strong hand cupped her cheek ever so gently. ‘And I also want you to be my wife, sooner rather than later.’ He leant in, taking her lips with his, kissing her like their lives depended on it.
This all felt surreal. Too much, almost. She didn’t want to scare him off by being blasé, or by seeming like she didn’t believe him. But given what he was saying, so simply, so nonchalantly, she almost couldn’t allow herself to. How could he be so sure? Of moving? Of them? But, melting into him, she threw all caution to the wind as she felt the gentle caress of hope, its tendrils intertwining with the sturdy vine of connection that had taken root between them since their eyes had met at her mother’s funeral. The ground felt as if it moved beneath her, and suddenly she was floating, weightless, free. And Caleb was soaring with her. All around them, the soft breeze stirred the leaves of the towering trees lining the pathway, carrying with it the strong scent of lychee blossoms and rain-damp earth.
But it hadn’t been raining.
And there were no lychee trees in Wildstone.
And that was when she woke to someone knocking on the bungalow’s front door.
‘Nyah, it’s me, are you awake?’ Another gentle rap sounded. ‘Helloooo, wake up, Nyah, it’s almost eleven.’
‘Hold your horses.’ How in the heck did Hope sound so alive after they’d danced their butts off until all hours, then climbed into bed, with Caleb’s help, sometime around midnight. ‘I’m coming.’ Gathering together all the scattered pieces of herself, she climbed from her mussed sheets, and with pyjamas askew, dragged herself, her hangover and the remnants of her way-too-real dream, towards her beautiful friend.
CHAPTER
12
Three days after he’d saved their beloved kitten, Caleb found himself back at Rhonda and Donna’s house, getting his hands dirty along with a couple of rallied local labourers, Cracker and his sidekick Zipper. With the resident plumber away on a fishing trip, his fill-in holed up in hospital with a very close call of a burst appendix, and the neighbouring township’s tradies booked up to the hilt, there was no other choice. Pausing to wipe his brow with the sleeve of his uniform, Caleb glanced up at the verandah as the relentless sun beat down from the clear sky, its fiery rays scorching through his uniform. Nyah, with her long, thick curls pulled back into a haphazard bun, gave him a wave from where she was helping Rhonda clean up. Brushing away a stray strand from her captivating blue eyes, she offered him a smile before she focused on the straw broom in her hand. He was glad she’d agreed to join him here, instead of remaining holed up in her bungalow, counting the hours down until he took her to the airport the next morning so she could catch her plane back home to Cairns. He didn’t want to even think about their goodbye. It hurt too much. And considering how much Donna and Rhonda had doted on her when she arrived a few hours earlier, it had been the right call all round.
God she was beautiful.
How he wanted her, in every single way.
In another life…
Focus, Hart, focus!
Drenched with water and sweat, with every inch of material clinging to him, he drove his shovel into the unforgiving earth with fierce determination for what felt like the hundredth time. Surely, after an hour and a half at it, they were almost there—this line of underground piping seemed as if it were en route to Timbuctoo. Nevertheless, the rhythmic sound of metal slicing through soil echoed for another twenty-five minutes, broken only by occasional grunts of exertion from the two burly blokes beside him. Having nearly reached the fence line, up behind the garden shed where weeds were creeping over an old ride-on mower, and now almost a metre deep, his shovel suddenly hit a compact mass. He shifted his sunglasses to the top of his head and peered down. It looked to be a rolled-up blanket, but he couldn’t be sure.
‘What in the hell?’ he muttered.
Halting, Cracker and Zipper followed his gaze. Not another word was spoken. Dumping his shovel then dropping to his knees, Caleb leant in and carefully brushed bits of earth aside. His heart fired shots at the realisation that something was buried beneath the soiled terrycloth material. Inhaling a sharp breath, he sat back on his boot heels and rubbed his stubbled chin. Cracker and Zipper knelt at his side, looking at the discovery, then to him, eyes wide.
