Zac waited for the moment when Ava left the shed. When she reappeared she didn’t look his way, but turned and headed towards the river. Watching from the verandah, he strode quickly to catch up.
She walked fast but he was faster. ‘I’m sorry, Ava.’ He spoke to her spine, which was ramrod straight, pushing the distance between them as she walked a little ahead. He caught up and touched her shoulder until she stopped, and as if impatient, she spun around.
Her eyes were glinting with unshed tears and a well of protectiveness swelled in him as she looked up to face him. Her features were so beautiful, her eyes so tragic, he couldn’t help pulling her closer to curve his fingers around her chin and draw her in. ‘What have I lost, Ava, and how much has it cost you? What was I thinking doing this to you?’
‘We’ve both lost, Zac, lost a lot. It’s not just me.’ She stretched up on tiptoes to reach his mouth with hers and the light touch of her made him pull her closer.
For Zac, something did shift in his mind at that second touch. Her blue eyes were dark pools, like a mermaid’s lure drawing him in, her pupils dilated and bottomless. He stared into them, and she stared back, and the moment lengthened as each of them tried to see into the other’s soul.
When, finally, inevitably, he bent down and put his lips on hers again, he felt her tense under his mouth and paused. This time when he kissed her, it was as if he was transported back to another moment, kissing this woman, holding her in his arms. He closed his eyes, the past skipping and slipping through his mind, and no matter how hard he tried to hang on to the memories, they slid and evaded his attempt at tethering them like will-o’-the-wisps in the breeze. Fiercely, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her closer until her toes left the track and she was crushed against him. She felt right, perfect, incredible in his arms.
Even that wasn’t close enough. Her tongue invited him in and the kiss deepened and he forgot where, or why, he was here as he breathed in the scent and the taste of the woman in his arms. And she answered him with a longing that touched the core of him with a feeling of homecoming, so tantalising, so welcoming, but still just out of his grasp.
He couldn’t remember.
Finally, their lips parted and he lowered her slowly, running her body down the length of his in slow torture until she could step back. Letting her go was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.
When he looked into her eyes he saw the heartbreak he’d caused, and deepened, with his intense embrace, and his finger rose to brush her tears away as they fell on her cheek.
Obviously, she was struggling with him being here and he cursed himself for putting her through this. He was a jerk. A thoughtless, arrogant jerk. It had been too big an ask and he knew without a doubt that he had taken advantage when he shouldn’t have.
‘We’ve kissed many times before.’ His words were a statement and she didn’t deny it, but she stepped away further and the back of her hand rested across her mouth where he’d left his imprint. He could tell she was having trouble with her emotions.
She wasn’t the only one. His heart thumped like a piston in his chest and he wanted to snatch her back instantly, back into his arms, and do that all over again. And more.
There was only one way his thoughts could go and he didn’t understand how he could have allowed himself to risk this woman by making love to her when he must have known it couldn’t last. Damn.
‘Were we lovers?’ His voice was harsher than he’d intended, angry with himself, not her. She flinched at the baldness of the question.
She raised her chin and he remembered that from the first time she’d visited him in the hospital – he’d known she was no shrinking flower. She held his gaze, lifting her chin higher. ‘Yes!’
He glanced down at her body as if to remember, and his gaze lingered on her generous breasts. Before he could say anything, she spun away towards the path again.
God, this must be hard for her. What the heck had he been thinking of to involve someone as obviously decent as Ava when he was never marrying again? Especially someone who was as honest and smart and generous as this woman. Someone who could never leave here and be happy. What had he done just now? He’d almost lost control. Bloody hell.
He spoke to her back. ‘I think I should leave for Alice Springs tomorrow. I can arrange for a car to pick me up.’
She sighed and turned back to look at him. Her eyes were shadowed now. ‘I don’t know. Yes. I suppose. Maybe you should just go.’
Strangely, now he didn’t want to. ‘If I think of something, can I call you?’
This whole mess was nowhere near finished, but suddenly it was important to give her space because she needed it. He needed it too, to think. Whatever had been between them was gone, and he should be as well. Especially if he’d led her on unfairly when there could be no future.
‘Sure.’ Except the one word sounded anything but sure.
When he had his own transport he could return. Or maybe, for Ava, he would not.
He stopped following her then and watched her increase the distance between them, down towards the waterhole. Soon she’d rounded a bend and disappeared out of sight.
Poddy arrived at his door an hour later with an ‘experience’ for Zac. To get him away from Ava for the day, he had no doubt. He didn’t blame her family for arranging it, so he followed Poddy to the vehicle and climbed in to go hiking for the day.
That night, he tossed in his wrought-iron bed and remembered the confusion and pain in Ava’s eyes. He hated that he’d caused her such distress. It would be better when he’d just left her in peace and returned to Alice Springs. He was almost completely certain that was the right thing to do, but he wasn’t ready to go back to Sydney. Something held him back from doing that.
He’d sat outside before going to bed. He could hear the dull murmur of voices from inside the homestead, and not wanting to eavesdrop he’d stood up and walked down the steps to gaze up at the enormous sky above him. The full moon hadn’t risen yet and the dark sky lay with such a dense carpet of stars, swirls and stick figures of constellations. To the left of his unobstructed view, the glorious Milky Way cut a swathe across the sky like a silver cloud. Even the occasional taunting flicker of a shooting star zipping past and extinguishing out of the corner of his eye seemed fitting in this moment.
Like Ava. A bright star who’d appeared in his world and then was gone.
In the night hours, the brief snatches of sleep Zac managed were filled with the worst of dreams. He was cold, freezing cold, and he could hear a woman’s screams. Somewhere. In smoke. He couldn’t find her. He ran this way and that as he searched for her, but the cries didn’t seem any closer. He had to find her before something terrible happened, something he’d never survive, but then it was too late. Her screams were cut off and he sat bolt upright in bed.
The light from the moon shone into the room at a low angle – it must be setting. It was nearly morning, reminding him where he was and that he’d be leaving today. Leaving Ava to heal the heart, which he could now see he’d broken.
His hand shook as he reached across and took a sip of water to clear the ache in his throat. When he sat on the edge of the bed, his heart pounded in his chest.
Ava was the key. He still believed she could help him remember, but at what cost to her? He’d never felt closer to seeing past the block than he had yesterday, but he’d also seen the toll it had taken on the woman trying to help him.
Because she’d confirmed they’d been lovers, he had more questions. How had he begun a relationship so soon after Roslyn? Why hadn’t he stopped it? How long had it been going on for? He’d only been in Alice Springs a week. How could he not remember that? How had he come to the point where they’d slept together?
He massaged his scalp with tense fingers. If they had been lovers, surely they’d taken precautions? What if they’d made plans he didn’t remember? That would explain her persistence in bringing him here. These were all very serious questions that he should have asked, but it all came back to what had possessed him. Possessed him to become involved when he was transient, when he’d already royally screwed up one marriage with far more chance of success than this balls-up.
He lay back down, feeling restless and staring out at the moonlight shining on the barren landscape.
Maybe a miracle would bring answers before he left.
Maybe when he saw her this morning, it would all come back in a deluge.
Maybe pigs might fly.