Flight to Coorah Creek (12 page)

Jess walked through the pub's back door into the rear lounge bar. The door to the kitchen was open and she could hear Trish Warren's voice inside. As she approached, the words slowly began to make sense.

‘I hope you know what you are doing, Jack North!' This did not sound like the kind and gentle woman she knew. Trish sounded almost threatening. She was reminded again of her mother on the steps, facing down the reporters.

‘I'm not doing anything,' Jack replied.

‘I hope not. That poor woman and those two kids have been through enough. They don't need any more hurt in their lives.'

‘I'd never hurt her.' Jack sounded outraged. ‘I'm not that bastard, whoever he was. I would never hit a woman.'

‘That's not the only way to hurt someone,' Trish told him. ‘She's vulnerable, Jack. Be a friend to her. That's all you can be right now.'

Jess didn't hear Jack's softly-spoken response. She hesitated for a moment as the impact of the words began to strike her. She had already come to suspect that Ellen had feelings for Jack. It seemed those feelings might well be returned. She was happy for Ellen, but determined to stay well out of their business. She was hardly qualified to give Ellen or anyone else romantic advice.

After a few seconds, Jess pushed a chair noisily into place under one of the tables. By the time she reached the kitchen, Trish and Jack's conversation had turned to that old outback standard – the weather.

‘Hey, Jack,' Jess said. ‘I was wondering when I can move into the house?'

‘It's done,' Jack said. ‘That's why I came by. To give you these.' He held out a set of keys.

‘But I was just there,' Jess said, as she took them. ‘The house isn't locked.'

‘No reason to just yet,' Jack said. ‘But if you're going to Birdsville and leaving your stuff there, you'll want to lock it.'

That was true enough.

‘By the way,' Trish said, ‘there's some stuff there. Cutlery, plates and so on. To help you get started.'

Jess glanced at the big box sitting on the kitchen bench. There was an awful lot of ‘stuff' in it. ‘Trish. Are you sure you can spare it? There's enough there for a whole family. I don't need that much.'

‘Oh, you never know when you might have people drop by …' Trish's response was interrupted by a clatter of footsteps as Harry and Bethany ran into the kitchen, demanding cookies and milk.

‘Where are your manners – say “please”.' Their mother was following close behind. She was dressed for another night's work.

‘Ellen, do you need me to watch the kids?' Jess asked. She had spent a pleasant evening playing games with them the night before, and suddenly realised that another similar evening wouldn't be a trial.

‘Thanks, Jess,' Ellen said. ‘But my babysitter is feeling better and she'll be here soon. I couldn't ask you to do it another night. Although I think the kids would prefer you.'

‘Can Jack stay with us?' Harry asked.

‘I promised your mum I'd drive her to her work,' Jack said, kneeling down next to Harry. ‘Remember we talked about looking after girls?'

Harry nodded, his face becoming very serious.

‘Well, I'm helping your mum. Is that all right by you?'

Harry nodded, then the grin came back and he turned his attention once more to the cookies.

‘Jack, you don't have to drive me,' Ellen said. ‘I can walk. Honestly.'

‘I'm going that way,' Jack said casually, ‘and I thought I might try some more of your cooking.'

Jess caught both the slight flush that rose to Ellen's cheeks, and the warning look that Trish cast at Jack. There it was again, she thought. That maternal instinct to protect. That's what she'd felt when she held Nikki's baby. She'd felt a bit of it while babysitting Harry and Bethany. She saw it in Ellen too, as she struggled to cope with two kids, living in a pub and a new job that must barely pay the cost of her room.

While she, with her good job and healthy bank balance, had a free house. A house big enough for …

Of course. It made so much sense.

‘Ellen,' she said. ‘Jack tells me the house is finished.'

Ellen looked a bit startled by the sudden change in topic.

‘It is, but if there is anything else needs doing … Jack has been generous in paying me, so I'm happy to come back and do some more.'

‘I do want you to come back. But not to clean. Tomorrow, I'm moving in – and so are you and the kids.'

‘What!' Ellen looked shocked.

‘It's perfect,' said Jess. ‘I've got more space than I could possibly use – and it's free.'

‘I couldn't possibly ask you—'

‘You didn't,' Jess said. ‘I offered.'

‘But … the kids? You don't want them under your feet all the time.'

‘Well, actually …' Jess turned to look at Harry and Bethany who had stopped eating and were watching the adults closely. ‘I think we'd do all right.'

‘I … I don't know what to say.' Ellen's eyes shone with unshed tears. ‘This is just too generous of you. You are too kind.'

‘No, I'm not,' Jess said. She could have said she was just beginning to realise she was lonely. She could have said she was trying to find atonement. Instead she said, ‘We'll be helping each other out. Besides, I want a chance to taste that cooking of yours and I'm not going to The Mineside.'

‘Speaking of which, I'll just grab my things. And … thank you.' Ellen gave Jess a quick hug and darted from the room.

‘Well, Jack. Any chance you'll be able to find some furniture for the kids' rooms?' Jess asked.

A long slow grin spread over Jack's face. ‘You know. I just so happen to know somewhere I can lay my hands on a couple of small beds.'

Suspicion forming in her mind, Jess took another good look in the box of kitchen goods Trish had prepared. Enough for a family indeed!

Jess looked at the two beaming adults, suspicion turning to certainty.

‘We were wondering if the two of you were ever going to sort it out for yourselves,' Trish said.

It seemed as if half the town wanted to be involved in Jess and Ellen's moving day.

Jack led the pack, with his dusty ute. The owner of the hardware store, a big ruddy-cheeked man Jess hadn't met before, suddenly appeared with two child-sized beds in the back of his truck. Smiling broadly, he dismissed questions about where the beds had come from, or who might be paying for them. Jack and Adam carried them into the large spare room and set about assembling them with screwdrivers and spanners.

Trish Warren was there with her box of kitchenware and a generous supply of food for the helpers. She and Ellen were in charge of the kitchen. Jess was happy to let that happen. She suspected Ellen was going to be doing a lot of the cooking in their new household, and she was fine with that.

Sister Luke arrived with a box of children's books. A house, she declared, was not a home if there were no books. And kids' books were the most important books of all. She didn't waste any time in enlisting Jack's support. She seemed pleased when he offered to build the kids some bookshelves, just as soon as he could ‘borrow' some suitable wood from the carpenter's shop at the mine.

Looking at the elderly nun's face, Jess felt a twinge of concern. Sister Luke still looked tired. A few minutes later, Jess carried a box through to the main bedroom to find Sister Luke leaning against the bathroom door, her eyes closed as if she were in pain.

‘Sister Luke. Are you all right?' Jess dropped her load and hurried to the older woman's side.

‘I'm fine.' Sister Luke brushed aside her concern. ‘Just a little tired, that's all.'

‘Are you sure? Do you want me to get Adam?'

‘No. No. I don't want to worry him. I'm fine. Honestly.' Sister Luke smiled and took a deep breath as if mustering her strength. ‘So, how do you like your new home? It's starting to look rather good isn't it?'

‘Yes,' Jess agreed. ‘It's nice of everyone to help out like this.'

‘That's Coorah Creek for you,' Sister Luke said. ‘It's that kind of town. Everyone helps everyone.'

‘Just make sure you don't help too much,' Jess admonished.

‘I will be fine.' Together they walked back through into the bustling living room to find two new additions to the crowd.

Nikki and Steve had walked over from the hospital, their baby girl in their arms. They were about to go home, they said, but first they wanted to present Jess with a huge bunch of flowers. Steve, it turned out, was quite the gardener, coaxing the dry red earth to produce flowers that had graced many special occasions in the town.

‘You didn't have to do this,' Jess said, as she took the bouquet of red, gold and yellow blooms.

‘To say thank you,' Nikki said.

‘I didn't do anything,' Jess replied, as she gently stroked the baby's tiny hand. ‘It was Adam. All I did was stand there.'

‘Having you there was such a help,' Nikki said, the suggestion of tears in her eyes.

‘And besides,' Jack said, as he walked past, a cheerful grin on his face. ‘No one in their right mind is going to give flowers to the doc.'

Steve and Nikki stayed long enough to proudly show their new baby to everyone. It wasn't long before Ellen and Nikki were swapping baby stories and making offers of babysitting for each other.

Meanwhile, Jess found herself with flowers and nowhere to put them. Adam sent her to the hospital where she found an old vase. She was carrying it back to the house when a small blue sedan pulled up next to her gate. It wasn't shiny and new, but did show signs of having recently been given a wash – if not a polish. A thin, sour looking man got out.

‘Can I help you?' Jess asked.

‘These are for you.' He held out the car keys.

‘I don't understand,' Jess said, as she took them.

‘It's the car I promised you,' Adam said, emerging from the house. ‘I know it's not much, but I've had the garage give it a good service. It should run fine. I hope it's all right?'

Jess looked at the car. It wasn't much, but it was hers. ‘It'll do just fine,' she said. ‘There's even room for the kids if Ellen needs to use it.'

‘I know,' Adam said.

‘So, you were in on the conspiracy too. Were you?'

Adam just winked and returned to bed construction.

Neither Jess nor Ellen had much in the way of personal possessions, so setting up their rooms didn't take long. They left Sister Luke in charge of the kids, and set off together to buy groceries. The town's only shop wasn't exactly a supermarket, but they managed to put together a fairly decent haul of essentials. When they returned laden with soap and toilet paper, several large boxes of foodstuffs and other household bits and pieces, the house was in order.

‘Okay,' Jess said. ‘I think we owe you all dinner. And by “we” I mean Ellen, because she's a far better cook than I am.'

It was a most unusual gathering in the big family room that evening. Returning from the kitchen where she was preparing tea and coffee, Jess paused in the doorway and looked at this group of people she had known for such a short time, but felt she could now call friends.

Adam, under Trish's watchful eye, was measuring the windows that looked out onto the backyard – garden was too fancy a word. Trish had some curtains that she didn't need and was trying to decide how much alteration they'd need to fit. Jack was sitting on the floor with Ellen's children. Harry had pushed up the sleeve of Jack's T-shirt and was carefully comparing the tattoo of the Disney duck on his arm with the drawing in a comic book. Bethany was just leaning against Jack's side, hugging the soft toy that had been his gift to her. Ellen and Sister Luke were both chatting at the big wooden table that still held the remains of an apple pie. Ellen had almost magically thrown together a wonderful meal for seven people, without batting an eyelid. The food had been very, very good; better than meals Jess had eaten in restaurants. And if the plates had been second-hand and mismatched, the company had been all she could ask for.

More than she could have asked for. Far more than she deserved.

What would these good, honest and kind people say if they knew who she was? Knew what she had done? Jess felt a lump rise to her throat, and turned quickly back to the kitchen. She busied herself with the teapot and mugs, pausing only to dash a tear from her eyes.

You killed my son!

No. I didn't know the drugs were on the plane.

‘Jess?' Adam's voice chased the scream from her head.

‘I'm just making the tea,' she said, without turning around.

‘Jess? What's wrong?' Adam crossed the room to stand behind her.

He was so close she could hear the sound of his breathing. Sense the warmth of his body and even more the strength of his compassion and his desire to help her. More than anything in the world, at that moment she wanted to lean back against him. She wanted him to put his arms around her and tell her that everything was all right. That she was all right.

But that was just not going to happen. For so many reasons.

Hoping he wouldn't see the glint of a tear on her cheek, she shook her head. She didn't trust her voice so she just kept moving the mugs around on the worktop in front of her.

‘Jess. Look at me.'

‘I'm fine,' Jess mumbled as she turned to face him. ‘Everyone has been so kind. I guess I'm just a bit over-emotional.' She brushed the tears away from her eyes.

He shook his head, denying her words. His eyes searched her face, and Jess felt as if he could see deep down inside of her. Deep into her soul. Asking questions that she wanted so desperately to answer. How she wished she could tell him everything. There would be no more secrets or lies between them. Those were becoming as hard to bear as the memories and the guilt.

But that was not going to happen. She broke eye contact and turned back to the teapot.

‘Why did you come here, Jess?' he asked in a voice so gentle it almost broke her heart. ‘What are you running away from?'

Maybe if she shared the past, the nightmares might leave her alone.

You killed my son!

She could never tell him that.

‘What makes you think I'm running away from something?'

Because I've been there, Adam thought. I'm still there. Once you start to run, it's almost impossible to stop.

He wanted to put his arms around her and pull her close. To push her hair back from her lovely face and tell her she didn't have to hide any more. He wanted to tell her that whatever had happened to her in the past, Coorah Creek was a new start for her. He was a new start for her.

New starts didn't always work. No one knew that better than he. Some things could never be washed away. Never be forgotten. Whatever was haunting Jess, it had left a scar deep within her. Adam knew about scars. Not just those of the body. He understood how badly a soul could be scarred. He knew how she felt, because the pain in her eyes matched the pain deep inside him.

Maybe if he told her his truth? If he shared his past, maybe she'd feel safe enough to do the same. The temptation to tell her was so strong. But how could he? In all these years he had never been able to tell the full story to Sister Luke. What was it about Jess that made him feel as if he could place the very deepest part of his soul in her hands? Was it her innate kindness? Was it the sense that she knew what pain felt like? Or was it simply that Jess was a beautiful woman and he was a man who had been alone too long? Whatever it was, he couldn't do it. He wouldn't burden Jess with his pain. She couldn't heal his scars. But perhaps he could help her. If only she would let him. If only he knew how.

‘Look at you,' he said. ‘You're smart. Educated and beautiful. A jet pilot, no less. Why are you in a one horse town like this? Flying for someone like me? You could have the whole world, but you came to the Creek. There has to be a reason.'

Adam watched her eyes. He could see the memories passing behind them. He could see the intensity of the emotions – there was pain and something else as well. Guilt?

‘You can tell me,' he said.

‘No. I can't. I really can't.' The words were almost a sob.

His instincts told him to pull Jess to him and hold her until she felt safe again, but he knew he couldn't do it. He could never be the man she needed. All he could hope to do was to free her so she could be the woman she was meant to be. Then she could leave here and resume her life. Find a man who was worthy of her. The mere thought was like cold steel in his gut.

‘Adam?' Trish's voice was hesitant, as if reluctant to interrupt. ‘I'm sorry, but Syd has just called from the pub. He needs me back there.'

‘I hope there's nothing wrong?' Jess stepped past Adam, as if anxious to get some distance between them.

‘Not really. It's the mayor. It looks like he's having one of his nights.'

‘I'm sorry … I don't understand,' Jess said.

‘Geoff Coburn, our mayor,' Adam explained, willing Jess to look his way. ‘He's a good man most of the time, but once or twice a month he goes on a bit of a bender. He doesn't cause any trouble, but Trish is the only person who can deal with him when he's like that.'

‘Really?' Jess questioned Trish, still refusing to look at Adam's face.

‘Don't ask me why.' Trish shrugged. ‘But I had better get back there. I was hoping Adam would drive me.'

‘Of course—'

‘Why don't I drive you?' Jess interrupted. ‘I have this lovely new car outside. I've only driven it once. To the shop and back. It would be nice to have another run.'

Trish smiled. ‘That would be great. Thanks, Jess.'

‘It's the least I can do after I used your car so often,' Jess said. ‘Let me go and get the keys.'

She walked out of the door without a second glance.

Trish bid Adam goodnight. Behind him the electric kettle bubbled furiously, then turned itself off with a loud click. He'd lost any appetite for coffee. He had a feeling he was in for a sleepless night, even without the caffeine. From the living room he could hear the soft murmur of voices. He should go back in there, but he didn't think he could face that either. Jack, Ellen and the kids had no idea of the darkness in his past. And Sister Luke knew far too much about it. It was time he went home to the hospital. It was empty now that Nikki had taken her baby home. Adam was comfortable with empty.

He headed for the kitchen door. He'd walk back to the hospital and maybe take this chance to do some work. Even for a tiny place such as this there was a surprising amount of paperwork, and he was always behind. Sister Luke would be pleasantly surprised if he did some of his own volition, rather than her dragging him to his desk like a reluctant horse. Just as he put his hand on the door handle, Sister Luke's voice stopped him.

‘You're heading home?'

‘I thought I might. I could get some of that paperwork done before you have to yell at me again.'

A faint smile touched the nun's lips. ‘I never yell at you. I merely suggest.'

Adam started to smile, too, but it never reached his eyes. For the first time since her return from the east, he looked closely at his dear friend's face. ‘Are you all right? You don't look well.'

‘I'm just tired from the trip,' Sister Luke assured him.

‘I think you should let me give you a check-up.'

‘Adam Gilmore,' Sister Luke said with some of her familiar fire, ‘don't you dare start fussing about me.'

‘Absolutely not.' Adam held his hands up in acquiescence. ‘Me? Fuss? Never!'

‘All right then. In that case, I shall allow you to drive me home.'

Adam hid his surprise and the concern that followed. Sister Luke lived next to the church, just a short walk away. In all the years they had worked together in Coorah Creek, she had always walked home, whatever the hour of day or night. He made a mental note to talk to her again about her health. Soon.