Roberta leant over the timber rail, determined to finish her coffee first. Anything to bolster her reserves as she mulled over her plan. She had some idea of where she would start poking the ground. There was one tree root bigger than the others. As long as she didn’t forget to dig to the left of it, her first plan of attack had a sound basis.
Her mother had harped on about it being on the left many times. Roberta dismissed the niggling concern her mother might’ve got it skewed over the years. Would she clearly remember which side of the damn root to dig if she’d been as upset as she claimed to have been?
Roberta grimaced. Never again would her mother be allowed to criticise anything Roberta did. This topped the dumb list of things to do as an irresponsible young adult—Roberta had done plenty to attract her mother’s ire—and Roberta didn’t even know what was in the damn box yet. She huffed, draining the last of the coffee before placing the ceramic mug down, hoping she didn’t forget to collect it on the way out.
It was now or never. With her torch on high beam, she navigated the short step off the platform onto the forest floor on the far right where Nate helped her up earlier.
She stumbled a little on the uneven forest floor. Her ankle rolled slightly before she gained a better foothold by holding onto the rail and cursing for good measure. Had Nate really believed her crazy excuse for being off the platform? Madly cursing you in every way possible. My hand wildly waving. Ring flew off.
Her excuse sounded so lame now, she couldn’t believe Nate fell for it. Surely, he was brighter than that?
She shrugged, needing to dismiss Nate from her thoughts. She was gifted the perfect opportunity to dig around the tree while Nate and his buddies discussed the next protest. Did Nadia really want her to join their mad, mixed-up lot?
Not in this lifetime.
She crouched beside the larger of the three tree roots unearthed earlier before unzipping her daypack for gloves and the sharp metal tent peg she’d found in the small shed her father had enjoyed spending time in. He used to dabble with the metal lathe, doing all sorts of projects with it. With a wink and a twinkle in his eye, he used to tell Roberta it was his special time to get away from Mum’s nagging. Roberta’s heart constricted for a moment. Whether he was her biological father or not, he was the only father she’d ever known. It hurt that her mother kept this secret all these years. A secret her father obviously knew nothing about. A secret that would never have seen the light of day if her father hadn’t been tragically killed.
With renewed determination, she donned her gloves and brushed forest litter away from the tree root. Now, to start. She did so with a hefty thrust, surprised by how moist the dirt was. She’d imagined hacking through hard earth, but this was going to be so much easier. Overjoyed that it might be possible to get down the approximate one foot—her mum’s words—she happily hummed songs played to death on the drive up from Melbourne. She made a mental note to expand her travel playlist one day.
After a few more solid stabs of the tent peg, a light sheen of sweat coated her skin, and she stopped to take stock of how she was doing. She removed a glove and raked a hand over her forehead and into her hair, making a mental note to shampoo her hair later so it looked respectable for her shift tomorrow.
Not too bad, was her verdict, as she directed the torchlight closer. It wasn’t so much the packed earth that needed digging past but the tangle of other roots protruding from the main one. But she was making progress and didn’t want to hack too hard, in case she broke through the small plastic box her mother assured her would fit in her palm.
Confident she was at the right spot, but not really having any idea if she was, Roberta put down the torch, angling it to get enough light on the hole. Grabbing hold of the tent peg again, she continued to loosen the dirt, pushing it out of the way with her gloved hands.
“What the bloody hell are you doing?”
Roberta froze, her arm raised for another stroke. Bugger! How did she not hear his footsteps? No doubt the torch resting against the thick lichen-encrusted tree was doing a brilliant job of illuminating her. How was she going to come up with a new reason for being there this time? It was obvious she was digging with the small mound of dirt beside the roots and a tent peg in her hand.
“What’s going on, Roberta? And none of that bullshit about losing a ring.”
Oh, okay, so he didn’t fall for it. She lowered her arm in slow motion but remained on her knees.
Nate stood at the timber railing, shooting death glares at her. This was one moment she couldn’t draw forth a naked Nate. It wouldn’t tally up with the scowl directed at her.
“You were trouble from the start. Too much didn’t add up, and to find you here working for Tash, bloody hell, I should’ve suspected something was off. Why are you here, Roberta?”
She sighed, put away the tent peg and picked up the torch. “Is this when you call the police or the national parks people? You might get the chance to see me in handcuffs again. Would you like that?” She didn’t mean to smirk, but the slight tilt to her mouth must’ve irritated Nate because his straightened and his eyes turned into ugly slits.
In carefully clipped words, his warning came across clearly. “I suggest you remove yourself from near this tree. The tree you’re tampering with is protected. You don’t want to know what the hefty punishment for that is.”
Roberta rose, zipping up her daypack. All meticulously done to give her some time to come up with something to say. Picking up her torch, she tramped towards the viewing deck with no idea of what to do other than tell the truth.
Extending his arm, he offered to help her back up onto the deck. For a second, she rejected it—no way was she going to give him that pleasure—until she lost her footing and realised she did, in fact, need his help. The warmth and strength of his hand buoyed her before a naked Nate flashed past her mind. She was always amazed at how her mind worked, but with certainty it was too late to be saved. She was doomed, and she still hadn’t explained a thing.
Roberta focused her torch on the path, starting back towards the cottage.
“Where are you going?”
She stopped and turned around. “Walking back and giving myself time to come up with a better story than my ring flew off. Is that okay with you?”
His face relaxed for an instant, and his mouth turned up a fraction. Then again, maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. Nate was back to his stern scowl and not-so-friendly expression.
“Er … your coffee mug.”
Oops. Roberta chuckled, instantly regretting it. It was so not the right time to do so.
“And make it fast. I’m only seconds away from calling the police.”
Roberta rolled her eyes for good measure, certain Nate would never see it when she crouched down to retrieve the mug. “Be sure to ask for Officer Molloy. He was nice.”
“You won’t get a choice, trust me.”
Roberta grunted, turned away from the twin trees and faced the path again. “Says he who steals bulldozers, holds up traffic and God knows what else. Aren’t you a model citizen?”
“Hurry up, Roberta. We don’t have all night.”
“Yes, we do.” God, she was being obstinate and possibly a little immature. Looking for a fight. Spurring him on, determined to irritate. She used to love doing this with her younger brother, earning her parents’ ire on every occasion. She guessed a leopard never changed its spots. Which was a pity because with Nate’s good looks and magnificent body, in another universe, they could’ve had so much fun together.
In the stillness of the forest night, he growled, setting her heart singing. She was getting a reaction, and at that moment, it was all that mattered.
With the mug swinging from fingers, she reluctantly led the way out of the forest. Come on, girl, think. Damn it! If she had a little more information about what she was digging for, she’d feel more confident. How would her mother handle a late-night call? She could pass the phone over to Nate and let her do all the explaining.
Back at the cottage, she dropped her daypack outside the door and removed her grubby shoes. There were moist leaves and twigs stuck to the soles, and she was mindful enough not to carry it inside.
Scrunching her toes to ease the onset of what felt like cramps, she realised she’d been on her feet all day. The stress of a new job and everything happening since brought on a tidal wave of fatigue. Doubt crept into her mind, making her unsure if she’d make the distance of this new discussion. Making sense of what her mother did nearly thirty years ago was already enough to unsettle her. Attempting to explain it to someone else felt like the worst imaginable situation to be in. At least there wasn’t an audience. It looked like everyone had gone home after the meeting.
With her phone needing charging, she unzipped her daypack to retrieve it before dropping it back at the front door. At the sink, she gave her mug a quick rinse, leaving it upside down to drain. Then she made for the two-seater couch and flopped onto it, aware Nate was only two steps behind.
With nowhere else to sit except beside her on the couch, Nate chose to sit on the floor beside the couch, knees raised and arms resting on top. Without lifting her gaze, she noticed all this from her periphery. Could she ignore him? Fiddling with her phone, she checked her messages first before blacking out the screen. She would put it on charge soon.
“Roberta?” Nate said gruffly, looking at her with a scowl.
Oh, fuck!
“My mother buried a small box there nearly thirty years ago.”
Precious awkward moments passed when the only sound was that of Nate’s fingers tapping his knee. “And?”
“And what?”
“What’s in it, for starters?”
Roberta jumped up, aggressively slapping her thigh. She paced the small room, already knowing its cramped layout from her earlier stomping. “That’s just it. I don’t have a bloody clue, only that it has something to do with my biological father, whoever he is.”
“And this is recent news to you?”
She stopped and spun around. “Barely a few weeks.” She tensed when tears threatened to build up behind her eyes. Her hands curled by her side, her fingernails digging into her palms. As Nate’s concerned gaze washed over her, she fought a wave of despair threatening to bring her down by swallowing harshly. Good Lord, she was so tired and so over this mission already. Yet somehow, she was expected to remain strong for her mum. Roberta was always strong, wasn’t she? She’d handled the news surprisingly well, hadn’t she?
“The news hit you hard?”
Oh, shite! This was the first time she’d told anyone about her mother’s secret. Nate nailed it on the head, putting it into words before she could even comprehend it. The next few minutes were a blur. It happened too fast. One minute, she was mentally cursing her mother again, and the next minute, Nate had her in his arms, holding her tightly, soothing her after she burst out crying. Ugly crying.
“I’m not crying, okay? I don’t do crying.” She hiccupped and blubbered all over Nate’s chest, her howling haunting her own ears.
“Sure,” he soothed, rubbing her back. “Just a bit of moisture totally soaking through my shirt. Yep, totally not crying.”
Now there was chuckling added to the messy mix, and God help her, she didn’t want to think how blotchy she would look after this fiasco.
When she calmed down enough that tears only dribbled down her cheeks and the occasional hiccup escaped, she took a step back. Only as far as Nate would let her. He held her by the shoulders, his fingers lightly pressing through her shirt.
She gamely reached for his stretchy cotton shirt and bent towards it, using it to mop up her eyes. She reasoned if he was holding her captive, she had no choice.
When she glanced up, she latched onto his face, unable to make out what she was seeing. Compassion? Anger? A hint of understanding?
Nope, scratch that. She’d gone too far with Nate and would have to tread carefully. Tears wouldn’t save her. She gulped, for once shutting her mouth and preventing the words so close to slipping out. Something about being held against her will. She quite liked where she was, and the combined smell of woody rainforest and steaming coffee made this man’s aura a very attractive one.
“I’ll help you find this box. In fact, you won’t go anywhere near those trees unless I’m completely in charge. Am I making myself clear?”
Just like that, Nate’s aura died a horrific death.
“And Roberta, if you’re lying to me, so help me God, you’ll regret this for the rest of your life. No more made-up stories of rings flying off fingers. Got it?”
Her lips twitched, but she made a heroic effort to remain serious. “But I was madly cursing you.”
“Same here.”
Nate dropped his serious stance and managed a chuckle. “But the threat stands, Roberta. Take this seriously because tampering with a tree in a national park is an offence I won’t ignore.”
His fingers gently kneaded her shoulders, and she couldn’t think straight. A stress headache was hovering around the edges of her temple. Without meaning to, she slumped closer to Nate. “Can we discuss this tomorrow? I’m tired and really need to sleep.”
It happened fast. A quick squeeze before he released her, giving her just enough time to suck in one last breath of everything Nate. “Are you angry with me?”
“Yep.”
He didn’t look it. Was he sure? She took a step towards her room. “Okay, I guess we’ll keep working hard to be civil to each other. For Natasha’s sake.”
Nate nodded before she turned away, confusion marring her brain. She hadn’t done anything that bad to warrant his anger, and he’d agreed to help her. Okay, she conceded, he had caught her digging.
“Don’t do anything stupid behind my back, Roberta. You haven’t witnessed how ugly I can get when crossed.”
She stopped at her door and turned back. This responsibility thrust on her broad shoulders by her mother had been weighing her down for weeks. She was only beginning to realise how much so. She’d take another set of broad shoulders any day to help her out.
Her smile may have come across a little crooked when her facial muscles wouldn’t move like normal, but she was leaving with the last word if it was the last thing she did. “I’d say crazy, Nate, not ugly. You’ve displayed enough already to give me a fair idea. I’ve been told I’m crazy too. Maybe we’ll get along just fine.”
“Maybe we will.”
His gentle response washed over her tired body. She could’ve sworn his lips were turned up slightly as she closed the door and slumped against it.
Too tired to evaluate all the emotions hammering inside her chest, and the fact she didn’t get the last word in after all, she heaved herself away from the door, falling face-first onto the bed.