Shadows of wildstone, p.22
Shadows of Wildstone, page 22
Caleb couldn’t, wouldn’t, see her as broken as this.
After making her way upstairs and into the spare room, she didn’t bother to change into her pyjamas. Jet followed her and curled up beside the bed. Slipping beneath the doona, she drifted in and out of fitful sleep while images of Skye flickered behind her eyelids like phantoms. But it was the physical toll of her grief that pressed her down, pulling her back into the depths where no light could reach as she continued to drift in and out of sleepy consciousness. Each time she neared the surface of awareness, her exhaustion would push her back to that place, where the only witnesses were the silhouettes of furniture and the moonlight filtering through the curtains. And it was here, in this altered state, that she began the slow, imperceptible process of healing. It was not a conscious effort. She wouldn’t have had the strength for that. Instead, it was simply the natural resilience of her spirit, battered but unbroken, finding a way to endure when endurance seemed impossible. And while the echoes of her cries no longer filled the empty spaces of the homestead, the heaviness of her grief and guilt remained—a burdensome coat she’d learn to wear until the day came when its threads would start to fray and loosen, giving way to healing.
* * *
Glancing up at the clock, Caleb stopped filling out reports and calculated the time until he could end his shift and get home to Nyah. There were still two long hours until he clocked off at seven am. Talk about every tick dragging time’s hand like a lead weight. He knew she was strong, but this ordeal had shaken her to her core, and the thought of her alone in that big empty house squeezed his heart with a pang of helplessness. He wished he could erase the trauma she’d endured, make it all disappear with a wave of his hand. But life wasn’t that simple, and he knew that healing would take time. He hated having to leave her when she was going through absolute heartbreak, but duty called—he’d taken as much time off as he possibly could the past week.
Groaning, he pushed back from the desk and stood. He wanted her to stay, and not just for a while longer, but forever. If he found being a few miles away from her tough, the next afternoon was going to prove to be even more of a challenge. Her life back in Cairns called her. Who was he to try and stall or stop her? Wildstone wasn’t her home any longer, hadn’t been for a long while. And she needed her father. Robert also needed her. Together, they needed to heal from their immeasurable loss. He wished with all his heart that he could jump on a plane and go back to the tropics with her. The homestead was going to feel empty without her there to fill it up with love.
Gazing out the front window of the station at the night-cloaked street, he sighed. Despite the heavy weight of her impending departure, he knew he had to make the most of what little time he had left with her. Come sunrise, he’d have just under seven hours before Hope came to take her to the airport, and he planned to make every single second count. He’d make her breakfast, take her for a walk along the river, and maybe even sneak in a visit to the old miner’s cabin where they used to spend hours cuddled up by lantern light, dreaming about their future. Anything to remind her of how they were, and how they could be so in love again, if given the chance. Either way, it would be their last precious day together before distance wedged itself between them once more.
The very thought almost brought him to his knees.
He needed to do something, anything but stand here overthinking, wishing, hoping, setting himself up for a massive heartbreak. He strode out of the station and slid in behind the wheel of the patrol car, the hum of the engine providing a steady background noise as he traversed the quiet streets. His mind, however, remained fixated on Nyah, her pain seared into his heart like a brand. No matter how hard he tried not to let it overpower him, the weight of her departure pressed down even harder, heavy and suffocating.
The next two hours dragged excruciatingly slowly. When the clock struck seven, he couldn’t get out of the station quick enough. As he drove home, his mind raced with thoughts of how to support the woman of his dreams during this difficult time, from so far away. Phone calls. Video calls. It was all he had to offer her. He pulled beneath the carport, the Troopy’s engine falling silent as he sat for a moment, collecting his thoughts and emotions. Nyah needed to see him as her pillar of strength, the light in her darkness, and nothing less. Stepping out, he felt gravel crunch beneath his boots as he headed across the drive and towards the homestead that stood tall and still against the backdrop of a pastel sky. He pressed the front door open, and Jet greeted him with a wagging tail and soulful eyes. Sensing the sombre atmosphere that enveloped the house, he went in search of Nyah. He found her sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of tea clutched in her hands, staring into the distance. Her eyes were red-rimmed from tears and her expression was one of absolute exhaustion.
‘Oh hey, you’re home.’ Her slight smile evaded the corners of her lips.
Without a word, he crossed the room and as she stood to greet him, he pulled her into a tender embrace. ‘I’m here, Nyah,’ he whispered softly, hoping his arms offered her some kind of solace.
She leant into him, seeking refuge, and that was all the assurance he required to know that she needed him to hold her closer still. And as he did, her sobs broke and he was there to catch them. The weight of her pain pressed heavily on his chest, a reminder that despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shield her from her broken heart. And although this shared, compassionate moment wasn’t about him, he couldn’t shake the feeling of helplessness that gripped him like a vice, knowing that some wounds ran too deep for him to heal. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, letting the silent promise be her steady rock amid the turbulent waves threatening to pull her under. And she clung to him as if he were the only lifeline in a tumultuous sea, her grip desperate and grounding. They stayed like that for a little while, wrapped in a cocoon of shared sorrow and unspoken words, as bright morning sunshine began to filter through the kitchen window, casting a golden glow all around them.
With a shuddering breath, Nyah pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his face for reassurance. ‘I don’t know how I’m going get through this without you nearby, Caleb,’ she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
He brushed tears from her cheeks, his gaze unwavering as he met hers. ‘I’ll be just a phone call away.’
‘But it’s not the same, is it?’ she replied, her voice laced with vulnerability and fear.
Using every single bit of his resolve so he didn’t break in front of her, he took her hands in his, making sure his touch was gentle yet reassuring. ‘No, it’s not the same.’ He knew she was right. A simple call couldn’t replace his physical presence, the comfort of his arms around her, or the shared moments that wove their lives together. ‘But it’s the best we’ve got.’ He wished he could offer her more, wished he could rewrite the painful chapters of her life.
Wished that he could be her husband…
Her eyes searched his as if looking for any hint of doubt, any crack in his resolve, but he hoped that all she found was unwavering determination and love. ‘It means the world, knowing I can call you any time.’ She nodded slowly, a silent agreement passing between them.
He met her gaze with warmth and determination. ‘You’re not alone in this journey, Ny, I’ll walk every step with you, even if it’s from a distance.’ He cleared the emotion from his throat. ‘And besides all of this, your dad needs you.’
‘I know.’ She nodded against his chest. ‘And I need him.’
They embraced in the quiet kitchen, a sense of calm settling between them like a fragile web spun in the early-morning light, and as the day unfolded around them they found solace in each other’s company. Caleb made them poached eggs on toasted sourdough, then they walked along the river and sought shade beneath a towering paperbark for an hour, drinking in the quiet solitude of the unspoiled landscape. They didn’t have time to make it to the old miner’s hut. Next time she’s here, he told himself. That was, if she ever set a foot back there. And as they made their way back to the homestead, he could sense the heaviness of the impending farewell hanging between them like a black cloud. Nyah’s steps seemed slower, more reluctant, as if each one brought her closer to a reality that she wasn’t ready to face. And in truth, neither was he. He wished he could freeze time, keep her cocooned in this moment of shared tranquillity forever.
But life didn’t work like that.
Inside the homestead, Nyah gathered her belongings, her movements slow and deliberate as if prolonging the inevitable. Caleb watched her silently as she moved about, his heart heavy with the knowledge that soon she’d be boarding a plane back to Cairns. Then, when everything was packed, they stood facing each other in the living room, the heaviness of unspoken words hanging profoundly between them.
Nyah broke the silence first, her voice barely above a whisper. ‘Thank you for everything, Caleb. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through this without you.’
Caleb reached out and squeezed her hand gently, his eyes locking onto hers with unwavering sincerity. ‘You don’t have to thank me; I’ll always be here for you, no matter the distance between us,’ he replied, his voice filled with a tenderness that spoke of his commitment to her.
A lone tear slipped down her cheek, but a small, grateful smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She leant into him, seeking comfort in his familiar embrace one last time before they had to let go. Caleb held her as close as he possibly could, committing the feel of her in his arms to memory, just in case he never got to experience her closeness again. And as they lingered in that moment of a bittersweet farewell, the sound of a car approaching outside interrupted their silent exchange.
Nyah pulled back slightly, her gaze meeting his as if trying to memorise every detail of his face. ‘That must be Hope,’ she said softly, a touch of sadness in her voice.
Caleb nodded, a lump forming in his throat as reality crashed over him like a wave that threatened to drown him. He wanted to say something to reassure her, but he didn’t trust himself to speak right now, for fear of shattering. So, wordlessly, they walked out and onto the verandah. The breeze ruffled Nyah’s loose hair as she stood on the edge of their shared history, ready to move away from him. The car door opened, and Hope stepped out, her presence a stark reminder of the excruciating separation about to take place.
‘Hey, you two.’ Hope approached Nyah with a warm smile, her eyes filled with unspoken understanding.
‘Hey,’ was their united reply.
Caleb watched as Nyah embraced Hope tightly, the two women sharing a moment of silent solidarity. Then, with one last lingering look, Nyah hopped into the car and with one last wave, and a gentle, teary smile out the passenger window, Hope drove them away, leaving behind a silence that felt deafening in its emptiness. He stood motionless, watching as the dust kicked up by the car settled back onto the gravel drive and a sense of profound loss washed over him. The heavy weight was one he loathed but he had no choice but to carry it. How he was going to get over losing the love of his life a second time around, he hadn’t a clue. But day by lonely day, he knew he’d have to.
Because there was no future for them.
Not now.
Not ever.
He needed to get a damn grip on the hard-hitting reality of that.
CHAPTER
18
The thick, humid air of Cairns enveloped Nyah as she stepped out of her dad’s air-conditioned car and onto the driveway. She still couldn’t believe he’d been stubborn enough to be the one to come and pick her up, but she also knew Rae wouldn’t have had a say now that her dad was enjoying being somewhat more mobile. Late-afternoon sunshine simmered the earth beneath her feet, and the scent of rain lingered from an earlier downpour, mingling with the salt-tinged breeze wafting in from the Coral Sea. She paused for a moment, gazing at the front door of her father and Rae’s house with a mixture of trepidation and longing. This had always been her sanctuary, but now it felt like a silent witness to her splintered heart. If only she could fast-forward time, so this part of the healing journey would be finished. But here she was, right at the beginning, and already missing Caleb like crazy.
‘I bet you Ragnar is spinning in circles right now,’ Robert said with a chuckle as he carefully closed the distance between them, the walking stick aiding his limping steps.
‘I hope so.’ With a deep breath that did little to steady her trembling heart, she smiled through the swirling anguish as they made their way over to the front door. ‘It’s going to be so good to see him.’
Slipping the key into the lock, her dad opened the wooden door and, as suspected, a whirlwind of black fur sidelined him and surged towards her, nearly knocking her off balance.
‘Ragnar,’ Nyah cried with joy as the giant poodle bounded up, his squishy toy duck squeaking incessantly between his teeth. ‘Hey there, buddy, I’ve missed you.’ His exuberance was a balm to her aching heart. ‘Calm down, you crazy boy, so I can give you a hug.’ Kneeling, she let herself be enveloped by his warm, curly embrace, the familiarity of his presence grounding her.
‘Good boy,’ she said, ruffling his ears before straightening.
Rae appeared, concern etching deep lines into her soft features as she stepped out of the dimly lit hallway and onto the patio. Without a word, she wrapped Nyah in a comforting embrace that spoke more than words ever could. Her hands were warm and gentle, offering a foundation for Nyah to sink further into the depths of her pain, mourning not just for what was lost but also for what could never be reclaimed. Rae was a pillar of silent strength and a steady shore against the tide of Nyah’s sorrow, and in her arms she felt her heart and soul exhale. Ragnar, sensing the shift in atmosphere, padded over and pressed his warm body against their legs, a trio bound together in this moment of shared grief. And time seemed to respectfully stand still as they, too, stood there, a chosen mother and her chosen daughter embracing.
‘I’ll go and pop the kettle on,’ Robert said with a gentle smile. ‘And I’ll cut us all a piece of the delicious carrot cake Rae made this morning.’
‘Perfect, thanks, Dad.’ Nyah, Rae and Ragnar following Robert inside, and Nyah pointed down the hallway. ‘I’m just going to nip to the loo.’
With Ragnar trotting faithfully at her heels, she passed framed photographs capturing moments from recent years, and from her childhood. Pausing before the last one ever taken of her dad and his two little girls wrapped up together, she couldn’t help but reach out, her fingertips brushing the glass as if she could somehow bridge the gap between life and death.
‘Forgive me, Skye,’ she whispered, her voice laden with a sorrow almost too heavy to bear. ‘I hope you can rest now, little sis.’
A small whimper had her glancing down at Ragnar, his brown eyes brimming with a concern beyond human understanding. ‘Thanks, buddy, love you too.’
Although she’d heal enough to be able to live with optimism in her heart, Nyah also knew she’d carry this ache, this love for her sister etched into the marrow of her bones, forever. Somehow, some way, amid her grief, she’d find a way to move on, to live her life to the full—not just because Skye would want her to, but for herself, and for Ragnar. Her four-legged friend needed his human companion to be whole. So tomorrow, as much as she didn’t want to face everything or talk about the deaths of her sister and her mother, she’d be proactive and make an appointment to see her psychologist. No ifs, buts or maybes. She needed to live what she preached. Hurt people hurt people, and she refused to be a person who did that.
* * *
Three days later, fulfilling the promise made to herself, and then to Rae and her father over a cuppa and some cake, Nyah stepped into the psychologist’s office, a sanctuary of muted colours, plush cushions and shelves lined with books promising understanding and healing. The air carried a subtle scent of lavender and citrus, intentionally soothing, as was the gentle energy of her longtime therapist.
‘Please come in, Nyah,’ Doctor Madeline Hibbert said with a kind smile, gesturing towards the same comfortable chair Nyah had sat in before, over the years, as needed.
The soft hum of the air conditioner filled the cosy room, creating a soothing background noise as she settled into the plush armchair across from her therapist. Drawing in a breath, she took in every detail of the room—from the diplomas hanging on the wall to the neatly arranged tissues on the side table. Everything was designed to provide comfort, yet the weight on her chest felt no lighter. But she knew that in this space, if she could allow herself to peel back the layers of her armour, she could expose the raw and painful wounds beneath. It would be the first step in a journey that would take her through both familiar and unknown territories within herself.
And she wanted that, so very much.
Madeline’s voice was soft and unintrusive as she asked, ‘Would you like to start, Nyah, or would you prefer to sit for a little while longer?’
‘No, I’m happy to start talking.’ Nyah glanced over the walls, painted in a calming shade of blue, and to a large window allowing natural light to flood in. ‘No matter what I do, go for a run, meditate, cook, go to work…I feel like I’m drowning,’ she began. ‘I just want the heartache, and my self-blame, to stop.’ Grabbing a tissue, she dabbed the tears from her cheeks. ‘Sorry,’ she blabbered as she blew her nose.
