Hidden Past

Chapter Seven

Cameron didn’t sleep more than two hours. With Grace only meters away down the hall he lay awake most of the night and stared at the ceiling. When he’d finally had enough of fighting the sheets he swung out of bed and got dressed. It was just after seven and he could hear Dylan in the yard with his little sister. Cameron looked out of the window and spotted Isabel racing around her brother as he snuck out from the chicken pen clutching a basket in his hands. His sister gave him no peace as he crossed to the house and it made Cameron smile. Lauren had been like that, he remembered fondly. Six years younger, his sister had hung from his every word when they were growing up.

He was still smiling as he left the room, then headed for the kitchen once he’d let Jed outside. Cameron made coffee, drank a cup and was just rinsing off the utensils when he heard a curse. A very loud curse. He stood still and waited. Then it came again.

Grace’s voice was unmistakable. But the words coming out of her mouth were unlike any he’d heard from her before. He took off past the living room and headed for the hall. The profanity started again and he stalled outside her bedroom.

“Grace,” he said quietly as he tapped on the door. “Are you all right?”

Nothing for a moment, then a clipped, “Yes…fine.”

“You sound like you’re in—”

“I’m fine, like I said,” she insisted. “I’m just having a little trouble with my…I forgot to bring something to this forsaken place, that’s all. Can you please leave me alone?”

“Sure,” he said, grinning to himself. “I’ve made coffee.”

“Whatever,” she mumbled and he heard the frustrated banging from behind the shut door.

Something was up, but he didn’t press the issue. He walked back to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, mulling over the contents. When nothing took his fancy he shut the door and reached for a glass, and then stopped dead in his tracks. Grace stood in the doorway.

And she looked thunderous. “Don’t say a word,” she warned.

Cameron bit back the urge to smile. “About what?” he asked innocently.

Both her hands snapped up to frame her head. “About this!”

Now he smiled, because he couldn’t help himself. Her hair, usually so straight and severe, bounced around her face in a mass of wild curls. Untamed and out of control, she’d never seemed more beautiful in her life. “It looks—”

“I forgot my straightener,” she said with a sniff.

“What?”

“Hair straightener,” she replied. “My flatiron. And now I have to deal with this mess.”

He laughed then and she didn’t like that one bit. “Your hair looks fine,” he assured her. “It looks pretty.”

She plucked at a few strands. “It’s not pretty. It’s not fine,” she retorted, then let out a long breath. “You think I’m over-reacting?”

Cameron raised a hand. “Don’t accuse me of thinking.”

That made her laugh and she clutched her fingers together. “No one has seen me like this since…well, I can’t remember the last time.”

“You look good,” he said and passed her a cup. “Drink up. We’ve got work to do.”

She took the coffee and patted her stomach. He noticed she was wearing his shirt again. He liked that. “I’m hungry. Feed me first.”

Cameron’s libido did a leap. The mood between them seemed oddly playful and it made him think about fisting a handful of that glorious hair and kissing her neck. “I make a mean batch of scrambled eggs,” he said and begrudgingly pushed back the idea of kissing her. “Feel like risking it?”

She nodded, perched on a bar stool and sipped her coffee. “I’m game.”

He got what he needed from the refrigerator and began cooking while Grace quietly drank her coffee and stared at the linoleum countertop. She looked like she had something on her mind and he wondered if she’d spent the night staring at the ceiling like he had. After a while she put the cup down and linked her hands together.

“Why did you kiss me last night?”

Cameron stopped whisking eggs and stared at her. His chest tightened. “Because I wanted to. Because you’re beautiful.” He smiled. “The usual reasons.”

“You know I’m leaving in two weeks?”

“Yes.”

“And you know I’d never move back?”

Cameron put the eggs aside. “You wouldn’t?”

Grace shrugged. “I don’t belong in this world, Cameron. I don’t belong in your world.”

“Is that your way of letting me down gently?” he asked, and noticed her green eyes were suddenly luminous as she looked at him. “Even though you’re not denying there’s an attraction here?”

“But when a relationship is only based on strong physical—”

“Were you in love with the suit?” he asked quickly. “Or the doctor?”

“No.”

“Have you ever had an intimate relationship just for the sheer fun of it?”

Her gaze narrowed. “I don’t believe in casual sex.”

“I’m not talking about something casual, Grace. I’m talking about having a relationship without laying down a whole lot of ground rules.”

“I don’t do that,” she said hotly.

Cameron’s brows shot up. “You don’t?”

“Okay, maybe I do,” she replied. “I like to be in—”

“In control,” he said, cutting her off. “Yeah, I get that about you, Grace. But sex shouldn’t be about control. It should be fun.”

She glared at him. “Just because I take things seriously, that doesn’t make me an uptight prig. I know how to have fun. Maybe my relationships with Dennis and Erik weren’t all fireworks and passion. And maybe I did insist on separate apartments and avoided having them stay over because I’m too independent about have to be in control of everything. Maybe I’m all that and more…but it doesn’t mean I’m sex-starved or frustrated or that I’m going to jump into the nearest bed I can find.”

If I had any sense I’d forget all about her.

But he was all out of sense when it came to Grace.

“I wasn’t suggesting you should,” he said and bit back a grin. “Just, to not dismiss the idea entirely.”

She shrugged. “I’m not good at relationships. I’m not good with people. With men. I always seem to make them leave.” Her hands came to her chest and she held them there. “Do you know that I’ve only ever trusted three men in my whole life,” she said softly and with such rawness his insides constricted. “My father, my brother…” She let out a long sigh. “And you. I know it probably hasn’t seemed that way.”

“No,” he said. “But things often aren’t what they seem.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“Like the way I’ve always felt about you, Grace.”

The words hung in the room. She didn’t say anything else as they sat down for breakfast. They ate the eggs in a kind of forced silence. Grace offered to wash up and he didn’t argue as he headed off. He’d said too much. Admitted too much. Her silence was like a swift slap in the face. It was a rejection. Again.

He was accustomed to it.

Don’t you ever learn, Jakowski?

He left the room, mumbling something about paintbrushes and getting started on the painting.

By eight-thirty Grace headed for the main house. Pat was in the kitchen and greeted her with a broad smile.

“The kids are in the stable,” the older woman explained. “Waiting for kittens to be born. A stray arrived last time we were here and I didn’t have the heart to call animal welfare.” She looked at Grace. “Did you sleep okay?”

Grace patted down her curls. “Yes, thank you. The cottage is very comfortable.”

“But small,” Pat said, grinning. “Too small and snug for one old lady, four kids and a baby. But for you and Cameron—I imagine snug would be good.”

Grace’s cheeks flamed. “Like I said, we’re not—”

“I know what you said,” Pat said cheerfully and plopped a tea bag into a cup. “But I also know what I see. Even the bravest man might be afraid of letting his true feelings show,” Pat said quietly. “If he believes he’s going to get hurt.”

Like the way I’ve always felt about you…

That was just it. He had let his feelings show.

And it terrified her. For years she’d handled his antagonism and sarcasm—that was easy. That she could combat with insults of her own. This was something else. Knowing he had feelings for her, still had feelings for her, made it impossible to keep denying her own feelings…the ones that were madly beating around in her heart.

The back door opened and Dylan entered excitedly. Cameron soon followed. He glanced at Grace and then turned to Pat. “Looks like rain in the distance.”

“Rain?” Pat’s expression widened. “Wouldn’t that be lovely? We need a downpour to fill up the rainwater tanks. What I’d give for something more than the two-minute shower I have every time we’re here.”

Grace looked at Cameron, instantly mortified when she remembered the luxurious soak in the tub she’d had the afternoon before. She hadn’t considered water preservation. She’d only given a thought to herself. His eyes were dark as he watched her, as if he knew her thoughts. Shame raced across her skin. What hadn’t he said something to her?

“I’ll have one-minute showers from now on,” Grace told Pat. “You can use my saved minute for your bathtub.”

Pat grinned broadly. “You’re a sweet girl, Grace.” Her crinkled eyes zoomed in on Cameron. “You shouldn’t let this one go in a hurry.”

Cameron smiled and leaned against the doorjamb. “I’ll see what I can do.”

It was a highly inflammatory thing to say and Grace’s skin warmed immediately. “We should get started on the painting,” she said and avoided the curious look on the older woman’s face as she took a step. “I’d like to work with Emily this afternoon.”

“The main bedroom needs doing,” he said. “We can start there.”

She didn’t say another word and swiveled on her heels. In the main bedroom seconds later, she saw that Cameron had already moved the furniture to the center of the room and covered it with a drop cloth.

“Grace?”

He was behind her and she turned immediately. “What color today?” she asked, ignoring the thunderous beat of her heart behind her ribs. “Perhaps a pale—”

“Grace,” he said again and with more emphasis. “We’ve got another two days here—so let’s not get hung up on what I said earlier, okay?”

She shrugged. “It’s forgotten already.” She picked up a can of paint and thrust it toward him. “Let’s start.”

He took the paint and grabbed her hand before she could escape. “There’s no need for you to be afraid of me.”

“I’m not,” she refuted.

“You’re shaking.”

Was she? Grace looked at her hands. The quiver was undeniable. “Let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t,” she said and tried to pull away. “I can’t talk to you.”

“Grace?”

It was too much. Too much honesty. Too many feelings were emerging and she had no idea how to handle it…or to handle him. She shouldn’t have said anything. She should have worked on getting through the next two days without getting involved. But she lay awake for half the night, thinking about him…thinking about his kiss, his touch, and how suddenly it was the one thing she wanted more than anything else.

And it couldn’t be.

She wasn’t cut out for a relationship with him. She was going home in two weeks. Back to New York and everything familiar.

Grace took the brush and headed for a corner. She turned around and faced him, her back to the wall. “I just want to get through the weekend.”

“Is being with me such a hardship?” he asked quietly.

“No,” she admitted and looked sideways. “Which is exactly my point.” Grace twirled the brush between her fingers. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

He looked tempted to smile. “I don’t remember asking you to.”

She plucked at the sleeve of the shirt that had become incredibly comfortable against her skin. She had the silly thought she might just keep it after the weekend was over.

“But you said…”

“I said what?” he queried. “That I want you?”

She exhaled. “Yes.”

“So, I want you. It doesn’t have to mean the end of the world, Grace,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“Good,” she said and pushed back her shoulders. “Because it doesn’t.” Grace turned on her heels, determined to ignore him and pretended to focus on painting.

Three hours later, and without more than half a dozen words said between them, the room was finished. Lunch-time loomed and Pat stuck her head in the doorway just as Cameron was pulling drop cloths off the bed, and told them to come to the kitchen. Grace ducked past the older woman, muttering something about washing up first and he didn’t stop her.

He headed off to do the same once the bedroom was back in order. But he didn’t find Grace in the cottage. She was outside with Isabel, examining a low branch on a citrus tree, which was weighed down by its fruit. He stood by the cottage steps and watched the exchange. With her hair down, her jeans spattered with paint and his old shirt hanging loosely off her shoulders she looked so incredibly lovely his chest felt like it would implode. Only Grace could do that to him. Only ever Grace.

Isabel laughed at something Grace said and she pulled a piece of fruit off the tree.

She really is good with kids.

But she didn’t want them. That should have sent him running. Because he wanted children. The damnable thing was, he wanted to have them with Grace.

It took ten minutes to clean up, switch T-shirts and head back to the main house. He’d heard Grace come inside and head for the bathroom and left her to wash up as he made his way back to the main house. When he walked into the kitchen he quickly picked up that something was wrong. Pat and Dylan stood opposite one another and both faces were marred with a stricken look.

“What’s up?” he asked as the back screen door banged behind him.

“It’s Thomas,” Pat said quickly, looking ashen. “He’s gone missing.”

Cameron stepped forward. “Missing? How long ago?”

Dylan shrugged his bony shoulders. “I’m not sure. Could be an hour or more. I thought he was with Isabel in the stable.”

“Isabel was the last person to see him?” Cameron asked.

Another shrug. “Dunno.”

“Let’s ask her, okay?”

Pat called the girl to come into the kitchen. Isabel couldn’t remember when she’d last seen her brother and Cameron’s instincts surged into overdrive. “We’ll look around the house first,” he assured Pat. “In all his favorite spots.”

Grace entered the room and he told her what was happening.

“I’ll help you look,” she said and headed directly back out through the mudroom.

Fifteen minutes later, after every possible hiding place had been exhausted around the perimeter of the house, and they called his name repeatedly, Cameron knew they needed to widen the search.

“You head next door,” he told Dylan. It was about one mile to the nearest neighbor and Cameron knew the boy would cover the ground quickly. “Grace and I will cut across the back paddock and head east. He can’t have gotten too far. You stay here with the girls,” he said to a worried Pat. “And call me if he comes back. Also, call the local police station and alert them to what’s going on—tell them we’re coordinating a search and you’ll get back to them within the hour if we need help.”

While he gave Dylan instructions he noticed Grace packing a small bag with water and cereal bars she’d found in the pantry. Within minutes they were outside and winding their way past the stables and through the barbed-wire fence.

“Any idea where he might be?” she asked as he held the wire apart while she slipped through.

They both stood and stared at the endless miles of pasture ahead of them. “Just a hunch he’d head this way. He knows not to go near the road because Pat has drummed road safety awareness into all the kids. This way seems logical.”

She nodded. “Could he get far ahead of us?”

“Possibly. If he’s just walking and not distracted.” He raised his hand in an arc. “We’ll keep about thirty meters apart. and watch for holes in the ground. I don’t want you breaking any bones.”

She nodded and walked off, creating space between them. And then they started walking, tracking across the undulating ground, looking for signs, anything that might indicate a little boy had come wandering this way. They were about ten minutes into it when his phone rang. When he finished talking and slipped the phone back into his pocket he noticed Grace had moved toward him a little.

“Who was that?” she asked in a loud voice.

“Fish,” he replied.

She frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It was Pat,” he explained. “Apparently Isabel remembered Thomas saying he was going to find a fish for the cat. Cats like fish, right?”

“I’m not sure I’m following you.”

Cameron pointed toward the horizon. “There are three water holes on this property.”

She flipped her sunglasses off her nose. “Do you think he might have—”

“I’m not sure,” he said quickly and started walking again. He could see Grace’s concern in the narrowing of her features. “Don’t worry—he’ll be fine.”

She nodded. “Okay. Let’s pick up the pace.”

They did so quickly and thirty minutes later came across a small dam. Cameron checked for footprints and found only those belonging to cattle and the tracks of a lone wallaby.

“Nothing here,” he said and trudged back up the side and onto the flat.

“That’s a good thing, right?” Grace asked and passed him a bottle of water from the small backpack she’d brought with her. “If he’s not here he might be on his way back. Maybe he’s home already?”

Cameron forced a smile at her optimism and took the water. “Maybe. Let’s keep going, though. The closest neighbor in this direction is about another three kilometers from here.”

Five minutes later he heard from Pat again. He told her to call the neighbors and say they were on their way and to contact the police again and keep them updated. His phone crackled and faded as he rang off.

“Reception’s gone for the moment,” he said to Grace as they headed off again. “From now on we just keep walking and looking.”

She nodded and turned away. But not before Cameron saw the fear in her expression. He felt it, too, although he wasn’t about to admit that to Grace. They continued their trudge across the undulating landscape and didn’t speak, but the tension between them was unmistakable. A shared tension brought on by the building threat that they wouldn’t find Thomas—that he was lost, injured or worse.

Cameron spotted the familiar rise of another water hole ahead. A few cattle bellowed in the distance and he saw Grace hesitate on her feet as she walked. He doubted she’d ever been anywhere near a cow. He picked up speed and called the little boy’s name. Grace quickly did the same and within seconds they were both jogging. She was faster than he’d imagined, even over the rough terrain. He stayed pace with her and somehow they ended up side by side, moving swiftly across the grass, avoiding stones and dips in the ground. He grabbed her hand and her tight grip seemed to push them harder and faster. Finally they reached the water hole and took long and hard steps up the embankment, sinking slightly in the unsteady clay underfoot.

“Cameron!”

Grace’s voice echoed across the water as they both crested the rise. He saw Thomas immediately, on his belly, facedown in the murky water. He was at the water’s edge in four strides and pulled the sodden, unconscious little boy into his arms, praying that they’d reached him in time.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.