Her Galahad (12 page)

"Good idea. You ready to go?"

More than ready to leave the little house that seemed soaked in dark memory, she nodded.

Marshall
's Creek was a typical small Outback town long past its gold-panning heyday. Besides scattered, sorry-looking weatherboard houses, the main street held a dark, wide-windowed old general store-cum-petrol station, post office and pub, and a dingy blue, all-purpose hall for community events. The school and church had long since closed, with faded For Sale signs falling down in front of their fences. The place smelled of diesel and dust and heat and dead grass. The inhabitants' apathetic glances followed their progress down the road, less interested in them than in brushing persistent flies from their faces.

"How long did you live here?" Tessa asked.

"About a year." He swung into the petrol station. "I wanted to be as far away from
Sydney
as I could get, after— I hit here a week after I took off, and it seemed peaceful. I bought the land and slept in the truck while I built the house."

She flipped open the fuel tanks. "Go on in. I'll fill up while you shop." She jumped out of the van, frantic for something, anything to do to stop the words escaping her lips.

As far away from
Sydney
as you could get, offer Belinda died?

The force of all he'd left unspoken slammed into her heart. She'd thought, when she couldn't even like Cameron or endure his touch, it was because she'd found her once-in-a-lifetime love.

It seemed she'd romanticized too much about Jirrah's love for her. He'd had moved on after she'd gone. He'd found Belinda, had a child with her, grieved for her. Grieved so badly he'd had to leave
Sydney
. He could handle living there after losing her, Tessa. But not after Belinda died.

Romeo moves on, while Juliet grieves eternally.

Foolish, romantic girl she'd been, to turn her first love into her last. And she'd be a fool now to make more of his care for her, his fierce protection, than the simple explanation he'd given: she was the mother of his child, and he'd loved her once.

She had to keep her focus on finding Emily. Just as he kept his focus on clearing his name, and destroying her family. Allowing herself to feel anything for him could break, not just her heart this time, but her very soul. She had to find Emily, and then run. Run as fast and as far from him as possible.

She'd just filled up the gas tank when the prickling needles of warning touched the back of her neck.

"Oh, God," she whispered, hanging onto the side of the van, her heart pounding and her limbs almost paralyzed with fear. "Move, Tessa," she muttered through heaving breaths and clenched teeth. "Get up. Go!" She pushed away from the van and bolted into the old store, slamming the swinging screen door behind her.

Jirrah was pulling items from the shelves, throwing them in a trolley. She clutched his arm. "Cameron's here."

He frowned at her. "Did you see him?"

She pulled at him in panic, jarring a can from his hand into the jars of honey below, smashing at least four. "I know it. I
feel
it. He's here somewhere! Please!"

He stared at the sticky mess seeping onto the floor; but before he could speak Sam burst into the aisle, covered in soot and grime, gasping for breath. "Beller's here. He threw a Molotov cocktail in the house. I called the Bushfire Brigade and the cops, but there won't be much left to save—and the cops'll take hours to get here, comin' from Lynch Hill. You better run."

"Did Beller see you? Does he know which way you went?" White lines edged Jirrah's mouth.

"He saw me leave. I'd swap cars with you, but he'll be here any second. I'm headin' south to my parents' place in Mudgee. With any luck, he'll follow me awhile before he realizes I'm not you guys. Go north, while he thinks I'm you."

Tessa stared at Sam. This man, who'd hated her for years, was willing to do this for her? "Thank you, Sam," she whispered.

Jirrah gripped Sam's shoulder. "Thanks, mate. I owe you." Throwing the last articles in the trolley, he handed the proprietor two hundred-dollar bills as he passed, grabbing shopping bags. "Thanks, Ron. Got to go. This should cover what we've got, and pay for the mess in the aisle."

"But—wait—!"

They worked frantically, shoving everything in the van while Sam screeched away and the storekeeper bleated about change. "It's okay, Ron. I won't miss it." Jirrah turned to the man, nursing his wrist again. "If anyone comes to the store asking for me, or this lady, she hasn't been here at all, and I haven't been here for the past couple of weeks."

The man nodded. "Sure, Jirrah. If that's what you want."

"Thanks, Ron. See you around." Jirrah slammed the tailgate shut as Tessa bolted to the driver's seat and had it started before he jumped in. "Go, Tess. Head on the northeast road."

"I've got nothing but bathroom necessities and one last change of clothes in my bag. I left it all behind yesterday," she panted as they headed out of town.

"We'll get stuff later. You reckon your van would make it through an old dirt track that cuts through the State forest?"

"It's a four-wheel-drive. It should make it."

He looked at her. "How did you know he was here?"

She shivered. "It's this creepy feeling I get when he's close to me, like pins sticking in my spine. Like when I watched the
Friday the 13th
movies. I had it yesterday when I first saw you."

"Thanks," he retorted dryly.

"It wasn't you. He was talking to Mrs. Savage. I thought you were the investigator he hired to tail me." She kept her eyes on the road. "When I feel like shuddering, or I want to throw up, I know he's close."

"Sheesh. Did you always feel like that when he was around?"

"Not at first. It only began after he started telling me he loved me, or if he tried to touch me."

His brows lifted. "Must have been a happy marriage. If he weren't such a twisted, manipulative son of a bitch, I could almost feel sorry for him."

She lifted a trembling hand to her mouth, thinking of her wedding night with Cameron—and every other time he'd touched her since. "Don't," she whispered.

A warm hand touched her shoulder. "Stupid comment. I'm sorry, Tess. I heard rumors about his—tastes in women, and in sex, even before I got into lockup. It must have been hell for you."

The pain hit her so fast she almost reeled with its power. "Where do I go now?" she asked, praying he'd drop it.

"There's a State forest up on the right a few miles down the road. When you see the sign for the forest trail, turn hard left. Better speed up if he's as close as you think."

She nodded and stepped on the accelerator.

"He'll know what we're driving soon enough, if he doesn't already," he said as they flew along the road to the
State
Forest
. "But we can't change cars till we get to a big town. We're unusual enough to attract notice."

"I can't afford a new car."

"I've got more than enough—and for new clothes for us both." He lifted a hand as she opened her mouth. "I don't want to argue. We have to get out of here. If you want, use the money from the sale of the van for your clothes and things. I'll buy the car."

"I can't let you do that."

"Your pride's not my top priority. Finding Emily is," he retorted bluntly. "Don't worry whose money it is."

"Okay," she mumbled, ashamed. Ashamed he'd kept his focus, and she hadn't.

"Now let's concentrate on what's ahead." He grinned. "It'll take a miracle for him to find us.
Sydney
's the last place he'll expect us to go. Especially the way we'll take."

The shivering pinpricks hit. "You're wrong. He's close."

He turned, looking behind them. "There's a silvery blue Range Rover coming up behind us. Damn! He must have found out what you drive from your landlady."

"What do we do?" She checked the mirror, confirming with her eyes what her shuddering body already knew: Cameron was in the car behind them.

"Here's the turnoff to the forest path. Do exactly what I say," he said tersely. "I'll take over after we lose him."

She screeched hard left into the forest path, creating a spraying mist of gravel and red dirt around and behind it. The Range Rover followed them in, appearing out of the dust cloud they left in their wake.

'Tess, slow down. You'll kill us."

"But he's right here!"

"He'll be right on top of us if we crash. We can beat him if we keep our heads. Betcha he's never been on this sort of road—he won't know how to handle it."

"Neither have I!" she cried. "Oh, why didn't I ask you to drive when I knew Cameron was here? I don't know what to do!"

"Just keep your cool. I'll talk you through." His warm voice was gentle, soothing. "Concentrate on driving over the rocks and holes. Don't swerve away. That's it," he encouraged her, hanging on as the van all but took flight over a rock. "It'll come back down again. It's built to handle the bumps."

"He's getting closer!" she screamed.

"Yeah, and taking crazy chances." He laughed, watching the car's careening pursuit behind them. "Bloody twit's acting like he's the Knight Rider. He'll tip over or crash any minute. Don't look back. Just drive. We'll get through. Trust me."

She choked on a scream as a big rock loomed ahead of them like a mountain in the middle of the path.

He put a gentle hand on the back of her neck, soothing her panic with the slow motion of his fingers on her skin. "Put it in first. Keep the wheel straight and accelerate steady. We won't tip if you keep going slow and steady. Get off the brake, Tess. Accelerate just a little bit. Now go!"

She couldn't bear to think of the consequences of failure. So she concentrated on Jirrah's warm voice, the tender touch of his fingers on her neck, and followed his instructions. Up, up and over. A mighty, ear-grinding crash as the chassis landed on the hard surface. Then the back wheel skidded up, up—

"He's getting out of the car!"

"So what? He thinks he's got us trapped, but we're not beaten. C'mon, release the accelerator. You're just spinning the wheels on the back slope. Give the car time to move on its own."

She glanced in the rear mirror, and broke out in a cold sweat. "He's got a gun! He could shoot our tires!"

"He hasn't got the imagination or the guts. He's waving it to scare us into giving up—but we're not that stupid. Just drive."

"Get my gun out! Shoot him!"

Jirrah's voice remained calm and unruffled, becoming her focus of strength in a terrifying world. "I won't let him get you." He opened the glove box, plucked the gun out and pulled off the safety catch.

Adrenaline surged through her, born of desperate fear. She revved up the engine to force the van over. "He's almost here!"

Jirrah reached over her, locking all the doors. "We're gonna make it. Release the accelerator, let the van do its work and
drive!"

And somehow, she believed him. Her brain cleared, and she loosened up on the abused accelerator. Like a miracle, the wheels stopped their useless spinning. The van lumbered up, up and over the rock, slamming back down on the ground. Mindless with panic, she accelerated too early, making the van skid along uneven ground.