Читать книгу Seven-Day Love Story - Никки Логан - Страница 8
CHAPTER TWO
ОглавлениеSaturday
JAYNE’S heart hammered hard enough to break a rib, but she couldn’t break free of the jumbled mess of images. They no longer played out like grim movies in her mind, but the disturbing montage had a way of leaking, unwanted, into her dreams.
They saturated her with old feelings: suspicion, self-doubt, the dark, clawing fear she’d lived with for two years. No matter how hard she worked during the day to keep them at bay, they simply waited for night—and her eyelids—to fall.
The cold, wet nose of reality helped draw her back. She cracked one eye open and stared into deep black gems. Her hand slid out and curled around silken ears.
‘Ollie …’
Satisfied his work was done, Oliver padded back out of Jayne’s bedroom on a gentle click-clack of claws, leaving her to rise unassisted. His job was pulling her out of a nightmare. Her job was pulling herself out of bed. The place she could easily spend the entire day if she hadn’t promised herself she wouldn’t do that any more.
She showered and dressed in super-quick time, not prepared to take any chances. If there was going to be a stranger hanging around the place she wanted to be as prepared as possible. Her eyes flicked habitually to the small sports bag behind the front door. Spare keys, passport, cash, clean underwear. It sat gathering dust except for those bleak times she scrabbled through the contents obsessively, to make sure everything was still there for when she needed it.
If she needed it.
‘Breakfast!’ Four dogs came running as she clanked their bowls together loudly. It was the one time of the day Ollie showed he had more to his personality than cautious regard. Then she set to chopping fresh fruit and veg for her rehab critters.
Her own breakfast was a more leisurely affair. A treat to herself out on the back veranda, served on real china with tea from a teapot, amid the sweet perfume of native jasmine with the mid-morning sun to warm her. She used the ritual to force herself to slow down, to remember where she was, how anonymous she now was. How safe.
‘Good morning.’
Ollie went berserk inside, but Dougal, Jaz and Fergus came galloping around the house and careened with enthusiasm into the man who’d appeared silently at the side of the veranda. Jayne’s pulse leapt painfully in her throat and she lifted a shaky hand to it, clattering her teacup noisily into its saucer. She used the brief moment as he rough-housed with the dogs to recover.
Then he straightened and met her eyes. ‘I’ve startled you again. My apologies.’
Her voice failed her the first time. She cleared her throat quietly, then tried again. ‘No. It’s fine. I was a thousand miles away. I didn’t hear your car.’
She stared at all six feet plus of him, standing spread-footed on her land like a giant eucalypt rooting itself into the earth. Her fluttering heart took its time settling in her breast, and she forced her voice to fill the silent void. ‘Would you like a cup of coffee? Tea?’
He smiled and rummaged in his jacket pockets while the smaller dogs darted around his feet like skimper-fish on a reef. ‘I should get these forms back to town as soon as possible. Thank you, though.’
Jayne frowned. He wasn’t supposed to say no. Not that she wanted to have coffee with him particularly, but she’d asked … and asking had taken some doing on her part. ‘Excuse me just a moment, then.’ She gathered together her dishes and then took them inside to soak in the sink. When she returned he had the forms out and ready at the base of her back porch steps. It took just a few minutes for her to detail them and sign. Male eyes rounded when she produced a roll of cash from which to peel off the modest application fee.
‘Do you always carry that much cash on you this early in the morning?’ he asked.
Yes, always. ‘I wasn’t sure how much the fee would be.’
He took just two notes, then bundled the paperwork up with it and shoved both into an inside pocket in his Ranger’s jacket. Then he looked out at the piles of materials lying scattered around the enormous fenced yard behind the house. ‘Are you going to be okay building those enclosures by yourself?’
‘How did—?’
‘Mesh. Timber. Wildlife. Doesn’t take a genius. Can you build?’ He looked as if he already knew the answer to that.
She straightened her back. ‘I’ll work it out.’
‘You have to submit drawings with your application. So the Shire knows the animals will be adequately housed.’
Jayne groaned. Why was everything so hard? She was trying, wasn’t she?
Blue eyes studied her and he seemed to come to a decision. He cleared his throat. ‘I was wondering whether you needed any help. I’m pretty good with my … with construction.’
Turmoil ruined her tranquil morning. On one hand she did need help—desperately—especially if drawings were required. And Ranger Blackwood wasn’t a complete stranger now.
Which didn’t mean she was comfortable around him. But having his help meant he’d be back. And back. And despite all her progress she still struggled with strangers.
‘I can draw up enough to keep the Shire happy and then come by after I knock off work each day—help out for a couple of hours. If you like?’
Jayne stared. It was the answer to one of her primary problems. She’d never even put together a flat-pack bookshelf. ‘I’d pay you …’
He smiled indulgently and waved his hand. ‘Not necessary.’
Oh, it was very necessary. She needed him to stop treating her like a senior citizen. Right now. Paying him would put it all back on a professional footing. She straightened her shoulders. ‘Money’s not a problem. I’d feel better if I paid you.’
Even the bush crickets held their breath.
He studied her closely. ‘When I first got to Banjo’s Ridge a few of the locals really helped me get established, and I appreciated it. I just want to pass that help on. But if you feel better paying me, we can work something out.’
He patted the side of his jacket, where her forms were tucked away. ‘I’ll come back as soon as my shift finishes. If we get lucky we’ll have your preliminary approval ready to go.’
Five hours later Jayne hovered in the doorway, chewing her lip. Ollie looked up at her with soulful, trusting eyes.
She smiled at him. ‘Okay, I’ll ask.’ She found the ranger at the back of the property, pulling piles of mesh sheets into position across a gravel clearing.
‘Excuse me, Mr Blackwood …’
He straightened slowly, his blue eyes steady and blessedly neutral, his rolled-up sleeves revealing strong, tanned forearms. ‘Call me Todd. What can I do for you?’
‘I … If you’re going to be here a few days I can’t leave Oliver locked up all that time. I was wondering if I could …’
He smiled, and her stomach did a clumsy somersault, but it had nothing to do with fear. His smile reached all the way to his eyes—not all smiles did that, in her experience.
Not all of them reached clear into her gut either.
‘Sure—bring him out,’ he said. ‘He and I have to come to terms some time.’
Her chest was unnecessarily tight. Between his smile and his gentle patience for her maladjusted dog, she just couldn’t get a deep breath in. ‘Thank you.’
She was back in minutes, with a surly Oliver tightly restrained by the tether in her grip. Holding him gave her an anchor. Todd saw her coming and slowly stretched up to his full height, his eyes soft. ‘What would you like me to do?’
Jayne laughed lightly. ‘Could you maybe shrink about a foot? ‘
‘Not much I can do about that, I’m afraid, but I’ll do my best to be non-threatening.’
It had been a while since she’d not felt threatened around a stranger, but for some reason she wasn’t dissolving into a trembling mess around Todd Blackwood. Although he was making her a whole different kind of nervous.
She brought Oliver closer, and Todd took a step back to give him some space. Jayne nudged the black dog between them. Ollie was as stiff as she was.
‘Relax, Jayne. He’s feeling your tension. The worst that can happen is that he’ll try to bite me, and if he does he and I will have a quick man-to-man conversation to figure out who’s boss.’
She shifted until her body was slightly between them.
Todd frowned. ‘I won’t hurt him, Jayne. Just like people, dogs like to know where they stand with others. He might appreciate the direct approach. Let’s just see how he goes.’
Human and dog ignored each other for a few moments, and then Todd took a step closer. Ollie looked up at him suspiciously.
‘This could take a few minutes,’ he said. ‘If he sees us being comfortable with each other he might relax.’
Comfortable. Right. Jayne forced her body into a parody of a relaxed pose, triggering another one of those killer smiles. Her mouth dried, just a little bit.
The smile graduated to a deep chuckle. ‘Even I’m not buying that. Plan B … how about just some normal conversation?’
It had been a while since she’d had any conversation that wasn’t via e-mail. Todd took a tiny step closer to Ollie. The dog stayed put. It was working. She sighed. ‘Okay. What would you like to talk about?’
Todd let his hand drop down to his side, close to Ollie’s head so he could sniff it, but his eyes stayed locked on her. ‘How about what you’re doing out here all by yourself? Seems unusual.’
She stiffened immediately, and Ollie pushed up onto his feet.
Todd broke in quickly ‘Or … we could talk about something else. Where did you grow up? That’s not a Queensland accent I hear.’
Jayne let out a big breath, and Ollie’s tail sank back towards the ground. ‘Hardly. I’m from Pennsylvania originally.’
‘Welcome to Australia.’
‘I’ve been here a couple of years, but thank you.’ She laughed.
Ollie looked up at her, as if surprised by the unfamiliar sound. Todd took the opportunity to slide his hand down and gently rest it on the dog’s black head. Ollie forgot to flinch. ‘Keep talking,’ he said quietly, and then slowly closed his fingers into a rub.
Jayne drew in a breath. This was the closest Ollie had been to another person since she’d found him skulking, half-starved, down near her back dam. ‘I moved here two years ago. I was looking for somewhere different to where I’m from.’
Blue eyes met hers. ‘Different?’
Safer. Further. ‘Somewhere new.’
Todd was fully squatting now, and Ollie glared at him guardedly. But he was prepared to tolerate it as long as the gentle rubbing continued. It did, and Jayne found herself transfixed by the sight of those strong fingers pushing through Ollie’s black fur.
‘This must be quite different to home,’ he said.
‘Not so much. Jim Thorpe is a small community in the valley of a mountain forest. This all feels quite familiar. The trees are different. But still beautiful.’ She smiled down at Ollie and added her gentle strokes to Todd’s.
‘You miss it?’
She lifted her eyes back to his but couldn’t hold his gaze. She glanced out at the towering forest circling her sanctuary. And then it hit her. She was making conversation. And her chest wasn’t imploding. ‘I miss parts of it. But everyone grows up, moves on.’
‘You didn’t want to stay close to your family?’
Oh, how she had—and her mother had cried and cried on hearing how far from home her only daughter was moving. But Jayne loved them too much to expose them to any further risk. Not that she’d told them about any of it.
‘We stay close. We talk via the internet. We e-mail.’
Ollie shifted, and Jayne cupped his ridged silken skull and stroked him reassuringly. Then warm, strong fingers accidentally tangled with hers. A heat-burst surged up to her palm and she only just managed to suppress a yelp as she leaped back, sending Ollie scampering for cover.
Her eyes flew to Todd’s. His were carefully schooled.
‘Sorry.’ The pointless apology tumbled off her lips.
Todd tipped his head to the side and stared at her—a burning, inscrutable regard—and shrugged. ‘It’s a start.’
Ollie. He was talking about Ollie.
‘I should get back to this enclosure,’ he said casually, as though the burst of static energy had been purely one-sided. Of course it had. He looked entirely unaffected.
She cleared her throat. ‘Yes. I should get back to work, too.’
Uh-huh. As if that was going to happen while her heart was racing and while she had something so delightfully ornamental to look at through the window. Jayne ducked her head and turned back for the house.
Oliver trotted happily after her, oblivious to the awkward human moment he’d just caused.