Doctor Prita Brennan, a thirty-something woman with gorgeous midnight hair, large dark eyes and a soothing smile, arrived and began to examine Nat as Reid dealt with the lone constable from the nearby Rawson station. Nat was annoyed the police had been brought in because Tilly might have seen them, but Reid assured her Barb had kept Tilly fully occupied in the kitchen of the main building so she would never know he was here.
‘Well, you don’t have a concussion,’ Doctor Brennan said after a thorough examination. ‘There’s a good-sized contusion and a small cut here, but it doesn’t need stitches. I’ll clean it out and you’ll need to wear a bandage over it tonight.’
‘She’s got a lot of pain in her head, Doctor Prita,’ Reid said from the doorway where he’d been standing for the last few minutes, having left the constable looking over the mess of her house with Mac and Ben.
‘Yes, I imagine she does. Painkillers and rest will be best for that. I’ll give you some painkillers now but then you’ll have to wait for the rest until after you’ve had a CT scan at the hospital.’
‘Why is that necessary?’
‘You lost consciousness, you’ve vomited a few times, you were disoriented and are still dizzy, and it’s been at least half an hour since the injury. In my experience, in cases like this and given we’re so far away from a hospital, it’s always best to err on the side of caution.’
Nat sighed as she looked at the expression on Reid’s face, one that was even more serious than the doctor’s. He wasn’t going to let up until she agreed to be more thoroughly checked out. ‘Is the nearest hospital the one in Traralgon?’
‘Yes, the Latrobe Regional Hospital is the best one to go to. There are private places you can go to get the scan, but it will cost you.’
‘I’ll go to the hospital then, but not until tomorrow when the kids are arriving for camp. Tilly will be too busy to notice I’m gone.’
The doctor argued a little more for her to go in now, but Nat wouldn’t be budged. She wouldn’t have Tilly worried in that way. Not again.
‘Okay. I’ll make you an appointment time at the hospital for nine. You’ll need someone to drive you.’
‘I’ll bring her,’ Reid said, coming to stand behind her, his hand on her shoulder.
‘Won’t you be needed?’ she asked, looking up at him and wincing at the movement.
‘No.’ He carefully stroked her hair, the motion so soothing she felt like closing her eyes and giving in to the lethargy seeping into her bones. ‘Between Barb, Lisa, Mac, Ben, John, the kitchen staff and the hands, everything will be covered and even if I’m not back by the afternoon ride, they’ll still be fine. It’s not a huge group this week, only twenty in total.’
She could tell by the grim set to his mouth, the stubborn squaring of his chin, that he wouldn’t be argued with and it was settled, Doctor Brennan calling the hospital and setting up a time for a scan and a follow up with her afterward.
‘I also don’t want her to be left alone tonight. Even if her head is fine, she’s had a shock and there might be repercussions from that. It’s better if she’s not left alone.’
‘I’ll stay with her.’
‘That’s unnecessary. I’ll be fine.’
Reid just glared at her then turned to the doctor, ‘Does she need to stay awake?’
Doctor Brennan smiled, deep dimples appearing in her cheeks. ‘No. That’s a fallacy made up by TV doctor shows.’ She reached for the doctor’s kit she’d brought in with her, putting away the equipment she’d used and pulling out a box and a small notebook. ‘Right, so let’s get some painkillers into you.’ She dispensed the tablets, writing down the dosage and time in the pad. ‘This has codeine in it. If you’re not used to it, it can make you pretty sleepy. But that’s okay, because I want you to sleep. You can take some paracetamol in four hours and then four hours later, but if the pain doesn’t go away, even with the drugs, or if it gets worse, if you vomit again or become disoriented or you notice bruising around your eyes like that of a raccoon, then Reid needs to call the air ambulance and get you to the hospital ASAP, okay? You won’t do your daughter any good if you die of a brain aneurism.’
‘Is that a definite risk?’ Reid asked.
‘I think it’s unlikely in this case as Nat is showing no signs of anything more than a bad bump on the head and a shock, but as I said before, it is best to err on the side of caution. I would prefer you to come in now for a test, but given you’re against that, monitoring tonight and going to the hospital for a CT brain first thing in the morning will have to do.’ She pointed her finger at Nat, her friendly smile suddenly serious. ‘I trust you’ll do the right thing and not be stupid.’
‘Yes, Doctor Brennan. Everything you say, Doctor Brennan.’
The doctor smiled at Reid. ‘Was that sarcasm?’
‘I think it was.’ Reid’s lips were twitching.
‘Excellent. Sarcasm is a good sign.’
Reid laughed openly. ‘I now know why Barb likes you.’
‘Good.’ She closed her case. ‘I better go. Cherry stayed to look after Carter when you called, but she and Frank have a date night.’
‘Can’t get in the way of that,’ Reid said.
‘No.’ She flashed him a grin, her deep dimples showing. ‘You can let Constable Bruce talk to Nat but when he’s done, she needs to lie down and rest.’ She pointed her finger at Nat. ‘I mean it. If you don’t rest, I don’t care what you say, Reid here has instructions to haul you into emergency.’
‘I’ll be good.’ Lying down did sound like an excellent idea.
‘Good. I’ll call tomorrow after I’ve got the report from the CT brain and to book you in for a follow-up appointment. Otherwise rest up, take painkillers if necessary and be sensible about work.’ She left, but her voice drifted back to them as she spoke to the constable. ‘Constable Bruce, you can go in now, but she’s had a nasty bump on the head and needs rest, so do not take too long questioning her. If I hear from Reid you upset her in any way or kept her too long from her bed, I’ll be talking to your bosses in Traf.’
‘Yes, Doc. I won’t take too long.’
Nat was smiling as Constable Bruce walked in looking very tentative and like he thought she was going to break apart. She didn’t have anything more to tell him than what she’d already told Reid. He took her statement, adding it to Reid’s, and then put the pad back in the pocket of his vest and picked his cap off the table from where he’d put it when he sat down. ‘I think Mr Stratton is correct. It was probably some youths looking for money and easy-to-sell valuables. We’ve had a few incidents like this in the last few months but we’ve been unable to catch anyone. If you find anything missing, let us know, because that might help us track down the perpetrators.’
Nat glanced around but apart from there being a lot of broken stuff and things turned out of drawers, she couldn’t really see anything obvious. There was no TV or Blu-ray or computer here and she didn’t have anything else of value, any jewellery worth anything. She’d already had to sell her engagement and wedding rings. ‘There’s only my purse and credit card.’ She looked up at Reid.
‘Do you want me to look for them?’
‘Mac found them in your bedroom on the floor,’ Constable Bruce said. ‘Your credit card was still in there, but there was no cash.’
‘I didn’t have anything but some coinage. We spent all our cash when we went into Walhalla a few days ago to do the gold mine tour and visit the lolly shop.’ She swallowed and touched her head. The painkillers hadn’t had a chance to kick in yet and the throb in her temple was making her feel ill and it was difficult to grab at her thoughts clearly. ‘I can’t think of anything else, but if I notice something, I’ll let you know.’
‘Good. I’ve taken photos, and prints from the doors and a few other areas—sorry about the fingerprint powder. A hot soapy rag should remove it.’ He stood, putting the cap on his head. ‘Here’s a card for a counselling service for victims of violent crime. Please call it if necessary. And here’s my card. Call me if you think of anything else. You are free to clean up in here.’ As he glanced around, his professional facade disappeared. ‘I’m so sorry you have to deal with this having just got here. It’s not a good welcome to the area.’
‘I’ll be fine, Constable, and it hasn’t changed my view of coming home. Thanks for your concern, though. I appreciate it.’
He nodded. ‘I’ll let you know if we discover anything about the perpetrators.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I’ll show you out,’ Reid said.
She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead when they’d gone, then using her hand against the table to steady herself, stood and took a step forward. Her foot connected with something. A bowl—Tilly’s favourite Peter Rabbit bowl from when she was two—lay at her feet, a large chunk missing from the side of it. ‘Goddamn them.’ She bent to pick it up. The room swung around her and she grabbed for the table.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Reid was there suddenly, holding her steady.
‘Cleaning up. They’ve made a mess.’ Her chin wobbled as she looked down at the broken Peter Rabbit bowl. He picked it up, and the moment he handed it to her she clutched it to her chest. ‘Thank you, but it’s more than one bowl.’
‘Mac and Ben and I’ll take care of that. You’re going to bed. Remember the rest you promised you’d take.’ Before she could say anything, he plucked the bowl from her fingers, put it on the table and picked her up.
‘Reid!’
‘Nat?’ he said back in the same aggrieved tone.
‘Put me down. What about your injured shoulder?’
‘It’s fine. And I’ll put you down when we get you to a bed.’
They were at her bedroom door and she craned her head to look into her room. Mac and Ben were in there picking up broken pieces of wood off the floor. ‘The chest!’ It had been smashed to pieces and scattered about. But it wasn’t the only mess in the room. The drawers of the dresser were all open and every stitch of clothing she owned strewn all over the floor. ‘Oh god. Tilly’s room?’
‘It’s the only room that wasn’t touched,’ Mac said, tipping his hat back with his forefinger. ‘I guess they didn’t get upstairs before you disturbed them.’
‘Thank goodness.’ At least no more of Tilly’s things had been wrecked. She could hide one broken bowl, but any of Tilly’s other things … Tilly had lost too much already, she couldn’t bear for her to lose any more.
Reid made a strange growl, nostrils flaring, his breath fluttering her hair. ‘You can’t stay here. I’m taking you to my place. Mac, can I trust you to call in the troops to help put this place back to rights?’
‘Consider it done.’
‘Can I have some of my clothes? I’d like to get changed.’ She was still in the bathers she’d swum in, the chlorine sticky on her skin.
‘I can get them myself if you put me down.’
Reid gave her a searching look but then lowered her gently to a standing position and stayed by her side as she picked up a pair of yoga pants, a t-shirt, some underwear and a bra, but when she swayed he picked her back up again. ‘Enough,’ he muttered and headed towards the door.
‘Reid! I’d also like a shower.’
‘You can do that at my place.’
They were out the door before Nat even had time to consider his high-handedness. ‘I want to help tidy up!’
‘You can barely stand upright for more than a minute without swaying. It’s better if you follow doctor’s orders and let Mac and Ben take care of the tidy up. They don’t mind.’
‘I know they don’t mind, but I do. I don’t really want them to be picking up my underwear.’
Reid snorted.
‘What? This isn’t funny.’
‘No, it’s not funny. You worrying about Mac and Ben touching your underwear when your house has been ransacked and you got hit on the head and could have been more seriously injured, that’s funny.’
‘I did not get hit on the head. I got knocked into the wall and hit my head.’
‘Oh, well, that makes it all better then.’
‘So does sarcasm.’
He growled again, the vibration buzzing against her shoulder. ‘As I was saying, I don’t think you need to worry about your underwear. Your underwear will be fine.’ His arms tightened a little around her, his breath coming hard and fast in his chest. ‘You, however, are not fine. You’ve been hurt and I’m going to take care of you while Mac and Ben and the others take care of setting your place to rights and you’re just going to accept the help. Okay?’
She blinked, realising suddenly there was more to this than he was saying. ‘I’m fine, you know that, don’t you? Nothing really bad happened, okay?’
He stopped walking and stared down at her, his expression tight, vulnerable. ‘When I saw you lying against the wall like that, blood on the wall and floor, I …’ He shook his head and started walking again.
She touched his face, turned it so he was looking at her again, making him slow down. ‘I am okay. I’m going to be okay.’
He sucked in a shuddering breath. ‘I know. But you need to rest.’ He started to walk again.
She suddenly realised they weren’t heading to one of the cabins or towards Barb and Flynn’s house. ‘Aren’t we going in the wrong direction?’
‘No. We’re going to my place. It’s got four rooms, so you’ll have your own room. You don’t need to share.’
‘I’m not worried about that.’ Well, she hadn’t been until he’d said it. ‘You know I can walk.’
‘You’re wobbly. I don’t want you to fall down and hit your head again.’
‘You’re just trying to show how big your muscles are and how manly you’ve become.’
‘Is it working?’
He flashed a cheeky smile, but rather than making her laugh, tears pricked at her eyes again because she knew he wasn’t only trying to be funny to cover his own worry, but to make her laugh, to cheer her up, to take her mind off the mess her lovely little home had become. She began to shake.
‘Are you cold?’
‘No. It’s just shock settling in.’ He started walking faster. ‘I’ll be fine. It will pass in a little while.’ She knew it would. She’d been through shock too often not to know the signs. ‘A cup of tea will help. And some peace and quiet.’
‘I can definitely help with both of those.’
A minute later they broke out of the bush and into the clearing where Flynn’s house stood. She’d had no reason to come this far down in the property, so she hadn’t seen the house up until now. She’d been expecting a wooden structure with a gabled roof, but this wasn’t anything close to that.
It was made of stone and wood and slate, two stories with angles and slants and hints of bronze here and there and massive floor-to-ceiling windows along the front and sides that glinted in the sun and would give an amazing view of the valley and mountains beyond. It had a modern feel about it that should have been wrong in this bushland setting, but somehow fitted in wonderfully. It was nothing she ever thought Flynn would build—although maybe it was Anna’s style—but it certainly suited the man who held her in his arms.
He walked up the front steps—rough-hewn slabs of bluestone—and onto the wide patio area. He put her down to unlock the front door and then bent as if to pick her up again.
‘You are not carrying me across the threshold.’
He chuckled. ‘That’s not what this is.’
‘No. It’s not what this is.’ She walked gingerly forward, clutching her clothes to her chest, into a large foyer that had a staircase on the right leading up to the second floor, a corridor leading off behind the staircase and a large open doorway on the other side where she could see a lounge room. He quickly joined her, arm around her back. She wanted to look around, but he led her to the stairs.
‘The bedrooms are upstairs. I’ll get you settled and then bring you a cup of tea.’ He looked like he was going to pick her up again.
‘I’m fine. I can make it. I’m feeling steadier now. And I can have the cup of tea down here.’
‘No.’ He began to escort her up the stairs. ‘The doctor said you were to rest, so you will rest.’
‘Yes, Sergeant Major Stratton.’
He smiled at her cheek and it was a punch to the solar plexus. So much so, she would have swayed backwards and fallen down the stairs if not for his strong arm anchoring her to his side. ‘Whoa, you okay?’
‘Fine.’
‘I think that’s your word of the day.’
‘Well, I am fine.’ He angled her a look as he turned her towards a doorway to the left off the large landing. ‘Well, as fine as you can be when you’ve been attacked in your home by drug-addled teenagers, woken with a bump on the head, a splitting headache and your house wrecked.’
‘Oh, well that’s all good then. As long as you’re fine.’
She couldn’t help but laugh at his tone. ‘You’re being silly.’
‘Pot kettle black, baby.’
She stopped and blinked up at him. ‘What did you say?’ A flash of memory came to her, of younger Reid standing in front of her, stopping her from riding off on Gypsy Rose in the middle of the night, telling her she was being reckless and dangerous. ‘Pot kettle black, baby,’ she’d said to him before kicking Gypsy Rose into a canter past him, making him dive out of the way. He’d caught up to her later and yelled at her and that’s when …
She shook her head. No. She wasn’t going to think of that. Except, by the look on his face, he was thinking of that too. He’d moved a little closer—or had she moved a little closer—her breasts now brushing against his chest. She looked in his eyes and had to look away, the molten heat there was scorching, but found herself staring at his lips and that was just as bad, so she raised her eyes, only to find his gaze on her lips. She licked them. His eyes darted up to hers.
‘Nat.’ It was a plea. For or against, she couldn’t tell.
‘No.’ She took a step back. They’d cleared the air but she’d been a fool to think that meant she wouldn’t feel as drawn to him as she’d ever been. Friends? What a joke! She took another step back, away from him, away from falling back into the trap of giving in to desire, giving in to emotion when it never did her any good.
Oh god, but it was one of the hardest things she’d had to make herself do, because all she wanted was to lean forward, to give in to this pull between them that wasn’t friendship, that would never be friendship, no matter how many lies they told themselves. Even with her head pounding, she wanted to be wrapped in his arms, nothing between them but heat and sweat and desire. He knew her, as she knew him, deep down, past all the surface bullshit everyone else saw. He could see the fears and guilt and pain inside because he knew something of it, and it was terrifying. As terrifying as it had been that night he’d begged her to stay after they’d spent a week losing themselves in each other’s arms, and she had turned and run.
She took another step back. ‘I need to lie down.’
‘Yes.’
He hadn’t moved. ‘You need to get me a cup of tea.’
‘Yes.’ He was still staring at her, her eyes, her lips.
‘Reid!’
He blinked, shoulders twitching as if coming out of a spell. ‘Sorry. What was I …? Tea. I’ll get you some tea.’
He picked up her clothes and put them on an armchair in the corner then left.
She stared at the empty doorway, her breath caught in her chest. Finally, with a shaky breath, she sank onto the bed behind her and put her head in her hands. Hell. What was she going to do?
* * *
Reid stared out of the kitchen window. Shit. What was he doing? He shifted, uncomfortable in his jeans as he tried to banish the thought of Nat, the way she’d looked at him, the glistening on her lips when she’d licked them. He’d never wanted to kiss anyone as badly as he’d wanted to kiss her in that moment. Hell, he’d wanted to do far more than kiss her, and he thought he’d seen the same desire in her eyes just before she’d come to her senses and stepped back.
Thank Christ she’d come to her senses, because if it had been up to him, he’d have her naked and spread under him, losing himself in the oblivion only she had ever offered him.
He swiped his hand through his hair, fingers grating against his skull. He had to get his shit under control. He couldn’t lust after Nat. Not now. Not until she’d had far more time to get over what she’d been through. Not to mention he’d told himself he wasn’t ready for any kind of deep relationship, not until he’d got himself up and out of the depths he’d fallen into after Luke’s death, and figured out just what his life should be now without his best friend.
He thumped the bench with his fist, the pain a bright spark he could concentrate on. He took in a deep breath, let it out, another in, out. Good. Right. He was still hard as granite.
He swung around and faced the open-plan kitchen and living area, the large folding glass doors on the other side giving him a view of the valley behind the house as it fell away and across to the surrounding hills. Peace. Solitude. Safety. It’s why he’d brought Nat here. Not to seduce her. She was here to recover from a horrible attack. Her home was in disarray, her daughter was being kept away from the damage, she had a horrible bump and cut on her head. He didn’t have to look at her to know that her head had to be throbbing like a son of a bitch. He’d whacked his head too often not to know exactly how it must feel. Painkillers were going to help, but they weren’t going to keep that kind of pain fully at bay. And here he was thinking about kissing her? What kind of friend did that? And how the hell was he going to go back up there again and face her after he’d made such a dick of himself?
‘Stop being an arse, Stratton. You’re not the randy teenager you once were. Get a grip, get the tea and keep your hands to yourself.’
He grabbed the kettle and put it on, then after staring at it for too long—as if that would hurry it up—he paced over to the pantry to get out the Buddha Tears Luke had picked up on one of their travels and introduced him to. He wasn’t really a tea drinker and if he was, it was usually a true country-bloke tea—black as pitch with too many sugars to hide the bitter taste of the over-brewed tea. But when Luke insisted he open his palate and try new things, he had tried it and found that he liked the almost vanilla flavour that managed to be slightly bitter and yet mellow at the same time. He’d taken to drinking it before a difficult climb or jump or adventure they were attempting. It helped to soothe his nerves and centre him. He hoped it would help Nat in the same way now. Perhaps he should have a cup as well. He got out two Bodum glass tea mugs and dropped three pearls of the Buddha Tears in each.
The kettle still hadn’t boiled. He didn’t want to stand still. Standing still meant thinking too much. What could he do? He spied the big biscuit tin Barb had given to him when he’d moved his stuff up here. It was full of his favourite Anzac biscuits. Doctor Prita hadn’t mentioned if she should eat anything or not, but he could take her some biscuits in case she was hungry. She had emptied her stomach in the hallway when he’d found her. Anzac biscuits could be just the thing. A glass of water would be good too. Her throat was probably dust-dry and she’d need to replenish the water she’d lost when she’d thrown up. He also needed to call Mac and make sure he got someone to clean up the vomit in the hall.
After he made the call, he put together a tray of biscuits, a glass of water and the mugs. The kettle began its low warble and he poured the boiling water into the glass mugs, and watched the Buddha Tears unfurl. ‘Right, you can do this.’
He picked up the tray, thankful there was no longer a tent in his jeans, and headed upstairs, lecturing himself all the way about friendship and keeping his hormones under control.
Nat was lying on the bed when he got back up there. She’d changed into the soft yoga pants and loose t-shirt she’d brought with her. Her eyes were closed. ‘Nat?’
She turned her head, opened her eyes a little, her lips curling into a warm smile that made something relax and unfurl in his chest. ‘Reid.’ Her eyelids fluttered, eyes unfocused, then closed. ‘Sorry. Sleepy. Think the tablets finally hit.’ The words were more breath than sound.
‘That’s fine, you sleep.’
‘S’okay. You donhaftostay.’
‘I know.’ The doctor hadn’t said he must sit with her at all hours. But he was going to. He set the tray down on the bedside table, pulled the blanket that had been draped over the end of the bed up over Nat and then settled into the armchair.
He sipped his tea and ate a few biscuits and watched her as the light faded in the room, her breath slow and deep. Twilight came and went, folding the bedroom in darkness, but he didn’t turn the light on. He didn’t want to wake her.
An hour later, she jerked on the bed, her breath coming short and sharp. ‘Nat!’ He sat forward, tried to grasp the hand she’d flung out, but she snatched it back and sat up with a scream.
Then she saw him standing beside the bed and bolted back against the headboard, arms outstretched in front of her. ‘Andrew, no!’
‘I’m Reid. Reid.’
She stared at him blindly in the dark. Shit. He should have turned the light on. ‘I’m going to turn on the light. Shield your eyes.’ He flicked on the bedside light. She threw her arm over her eyes. Trembling. She was trembling. ‘Don’t hurt me, Andrew. Don’t hurt Tilly.’
‘Hell, Nat. It’s okay. I’m Reid. Andrew’s not here. You’re safe, Nat. Safe.’
Slowly, she lowered her arm and blinked at him. ‘Reid?’
He nodded and sat carefully on the side of the bed. ‘It’s me.’
‘Reid.’ She didn’t cry, didn’t sob, just threw herself against him, so hard he almost lost his balance and tumbled off the bed. Steadying both of them, he wrapped his arms around her, muttering words against her hair, he didn’t even know what, and stroking her back.
Finally, her trembling slowed and stopped, and her breaths were slowing, deepening, her arms going slack around him.
She was falling asleep again.
Good, good, that was good. She needed sleep. He shifted, lowered her back down, pulling the soft blanket back up over her, even though the night was warm. ‘Sleep,’ he whispered, smoothing her hair back from her face. He bent forward and kissed her forehead, her cheek—god help him, he couldn’t not—and then stood to return to his armchair.
She rolled over, her hand flung out, eyes opening a slit again. ‘Reid. Hold me.’
Oh shit. How could he deny her?
He kicked off his boots and lay down on the bed beside her, pulling her into him. Her arm went over his stomach, her leg pulling up to curl over his, and then, head nestled on his chest, she relaxed into sleep.
Reid lay there for a long time, fingers twining in her hair wondering if this was heaven or if it was pure hell.