Winter Wishes (8 page)

Earlier that summer, when she’d first noticed how close Jules and Danny were becoming, Tara had been terrified that he might have confided in the vicar. She’d lived on a knife edge for weeks and had even visited Jules to try to gauge whether or not she knew anything, but nothing in Jules’s manner had suggested that she had any inkling. Now, sipping the tea that Summer had made, Tara told herself that there would have been some clue in the vicar’s demeanour this evening if Jules had known the full story. A look? A nuance of her voice? A glance exchanged with Danny that spoke of a secret shared? Something, surely?

Which meant only one thing.

Danny hadn’t told a soul. Nobody knew why they’d really split up. Nobody knew the truth.

Tara wrapped her hands around the ceramic mug, feeling its warmth against her palms, as comforting as the knowledge that was now warming her heart. Danny didn’t want anyone to know the truth, and by remaining silent he’d contained the damage. Was he hoping that one day they could go back to how they were? Was there still a chance that he could love her again?

Well, if there was, then Tara Tremaine was determined to take it. And absolutely nobody, vicar or otherwise, was going to get in her way.

Chapter 5

“Danny! Wait up!”

Clutching at the stitch in her side, Jules stumbled down the shadowy garden track that snaked through the grounds of Seaspray to the cliff path. Although she was a lot fitter now than when she’d first arrived at Polwenna Bay, she still had her work cut out catching up with Danny when he was on a mission. He’d only left the house a few minutes ahead of Jules but he’d managed to overtake his father, who’d stopped to roll a sneaky joint. Already Danny was fumbling with his gloved hand to unfasten the gate; his haste to escape from Tara couldn’t have been more evident.

“Bloody stupid gate,” Dan was muttering as his hand struggled to release the catch. “Open up, for Christ’s sake!”

He made several more failed attempts, swearing furiously under his breath, and then kicked savagely at the gate with his booted foot. Jules frowned. She hadn’t seen Danny this upset for a long time – in fact, not since the evening they’d first met, when she’d had to talk him down from a colossal scene in the pub. On that occasion, though, alcohol had been involved, whereas tonight he was stone-cold sober. Knowing that he hadn’t had a drink made Jules feel even more worried. Usually when he was sober Danny was an easy-going guy, with none of the famous Tremaine temper that Mo and Issie had in spades. Something about Tara upset him profoundly, and instinct told Jules that there was far more to this than a broken heart.

“Hey, you,” she called. “What’s the hurry? Is there a worldwide Diet Coke shortage that I don’t know about? Is The Ship about to run dry? Or even worse, is there only one packet of pork scratchings left?”

Usually Danny would laugh at her jokes, however lame, but this evening his good humour had vanished faster than the sweets being dished out to the trick-or-treaters all around the village. His tension was palpable, and he vibrated with nervous energy from it. No wonder he couldn’t open the gate: his fingers were trembling so much that each time he reached for the catch his leather glove slipped away from it.

“Oh damn it all to hell,” Danny cursed, rattling the gate furiously. “Why did she have to turn up this evening? Bloody, bloody woman.”

Gently, Jules reached under his arm, slid her fingers onto the catch and loosened it. The gate swung open and together they stepped out onto the path. With Seaspray and Tara now behind him, and the gate closed with a firm click, Danny exhaled raggedly and passed his hand over his face.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise to me,” Jules said softly. “It was a huge surprise to see Tara tonight. Even I was taken aback, so it’s bound to knock you for six.”

Danny laughed harshly. “Knocking people for six is what Tara does best. She’ll have planned this for maximum impact.”

“Come on, Danny, you can’t really believe that. She’s been made homeless.”

He snorted. “So she says. That’s all very convenient, isn’t it?”

Jules opened her mouth to say that carrying two heavy suitcases halfway up a cliff on a freezing cold October night looked the very antithesis of convenient to her, but then thought better of it. Something told her Danny wouldn’t appreciate that comment right now. Besides, why was she sticking up for Tara? The woman might have looked exhausted and unhappy but she had a track record of hurting Danny – and at the end of the day he was Jules’s friend. She didn’t have any loyalty towards Tara.

The problem was, Jules couldn’t help feeling that Tara Tremaine really was desperate. The confidence and the gloss Jules had been so struck by the last time she’d met Tara had vanished entirely. Jules reflected that if she had to sum up Tara’s demeanour this evening in a word, then that word probably would have been
broken.
Tara looked like a woman who’d lost everything and, even worse, realised it too.

“Don’t look at me like that, Jules,” Danny snapped. “I’m not the bad guy here. You have absolutely no idea what that woman is capable of.”

He was right: Jules really did have absolutely no idea. As far as she was concerned, the whole Danny-and-Tara relationship was an enigma right up there with Stonehenge. She knew the bare bones of it and had gleaned enough over the past few weeks to have put some of the pieces together, but there still seemed to be a substantial chunk missing somewhere along the line. Danny’s smouldering anger towards Tara seemed out of proportion at times. Yes, his wife had let him down when he was injured, but Jules understood that things must have been difficult for her too. They’d both had enormous changes to adjust to. As much as she adored Danny, Jules wasn’t blind to his faults. He was stubborn and single-minded and hugely proud. These were all qualities that must have made him an incredible officer – but also, she suspected, an appalling patient. How would Tara have handled witnessing her husband suffer? And Danny would have bitterly resented anyone seeing him in what he’d consider to be a weakened state.

“You think I’m exaggerating,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

As she searched for the right words, Jules watched their breath cloud and rise into the starry sky. She felt torn. Was she speaking here as Danny’s friend or as his vicar? As his friend she was wholly on his side and could have throttled the woman who had given up on him when he’d needed her the most. Yet as a vicar Jules had been touched by Tara’s side of the story, and she wasn’t oblivious to Danny’s shortcomings. Tara and Danny were both human and, as such, fallible.

As was she, of course.

Jules bit her lip. This kind of situation was the very reason why she’d been warned during her training about getting too close to her parishioners. It was also yet another reminder of why she had to fight her growing feelings for Danny. How could she possibly give him the right advice about his marriage when she was falling in love with him? She hadn’t a chance of being objective.

“You have no idea what being near that woman does to me,” Danny continued bleakly when Jules didn’t answer. “I can’t stand having her around. It makes me feel sick; everything comes flooding back when I look at her. You probably think I’m exaggerating, Jules, but just the sight of her kills me inside.”

There was a tight feeling in Jules’s throat, as though somebody had taken the ends of the scarf that was wrapped snugly round her neck and given them a sudden yank. If she’d ever wondered whether Danny still had feelings for his wife, then he’d just provided the answer she needed. How could she tell Danny that she understood completely the pain he was feeling? That every day, having to acknowledge that she couldn’t be with him, a little piece of her died too? It was as clear as the night sky that he still had very strong feelings for Tara, no matter what he might tell himself.

“I’ll sleep at the marina while she’s here,” he was saying, almost to himself. “There’s no way I can be at Seaspray if Tara’s there too, but I won’t make a scene – for Morgan’s sake.”

“Won’t Morgan expect you to be at Seaspray?”

“I’ll get up early enough to be there when he wakes up. The last thing I’d ever do is upset Morgan. Tara knows that.”

“But Seaspray is your home!” Jules hated to think of Danny camping out in the damp marina office. “You’ll have to come back at some point. Besides, Morgan’s smart and it’s only a matter of time before he notices you’re sleeping there and starts asking questions. He’ll want you to tell him why things can’t be the way they once were.”

Danny laughed contemptuously. “That’s what Tara’s counting on. She thinks Morgan’s the key to worming her way back into the family. She knows I can’t tell him the truth, but I’m damned if I’m going to give her the satisfaction of playing her games. “

Jules was confused. “What do you mean? What truth? What games?”

“The kind she always plays,” Danny said wearily. “Emotional blackmail.
Poor little me, I’m lonely. Morgan misses you.
You name it, Tara can play it. Trust me on this one. I’m the world’s expert when it comes to her.”

“Dan, I don’t think tonight was an act. Tara looked pretty desperate to me.”

His top lip curled. “Don’t be so naïve, Jules. Surely you haven’t fallen for the poor and abandoned single mum act? That’s classic Tara. I have no idea who this Anthony was – the latest sucker, I suppose – but he obviously worked her out pretty fast and gave Tara her marching orders. Smarter guy than me, that’s for sure. I’m the stupid one who actually used to believe her.”

Jules had never heard Danny’s voice so acidic with loathing. His entire face was twisted with it, too. That Tara could still have such an effect on him spoke volumes.

What should she say? Jules wondered. How should she handle this? The fallible, human part of her wanted nothing more than to agree with him, to unite with him in a good old bitch about Tara and to keep him close for herself. The other part of Jules, the part that she hoped was better than that and who had been called to serve God as her true vocation, knew that this was unfair. Marriage was a sacred bond in the eyes of the church, and Jules was supposed to do everything in her power to help uphold it. A line from the wedding service flittered through her mind:

Those whom God has joined together, let no one put asunder.

She shivered. How many times had she spoken those words when marrying people? Now it was time to put her faith in them and stand by what she believed. She was not in a position to judge Tara or speak ill of her. Not when God had joined Tara to Danny in holy matrimony.

“I don’t know if that’s fair, Danny,” she said quietly. “Throwing herself on the mercy of her estranged in-laws couldn’t have been much fun for Tara, and the huge slice of humble pie she’ll have to eat would be enough to give anyone indigestion for years. I think she needs your help, not your judgement. She hurt you, and I’m sorry for that, but maybe it’s time you were the bigger person and forgave her? If not for her or you, then maybe for Morgan?”

Danny spun around and his hand grabbed her shoulder so tightly that Jules felt each finger bite into her skin even through her thick winter coat.

“You don’t know anything about it,” he said fiercely. “Not the first thing! Do you hear me, Jules? You don’t have a bloody clue what that woman is capable of. You can say whatever you like, chuck God at me all day if you want to, but I’ll never forgive Tara for what she did, never. I’ll rot in hell before that ever happens! If you only knew just what she’s done—”

He paused; words unsaid filled the darkness between them.

“So tell me what she did!” Jules demanded. “Help me to understand, Dan. If it’s more than I already know then tell me!”

But Danny only shook his blond head.

“I can’t, Jules. You’ll have to trust me on this one. My marriage is beyond all repair. Just believe me when I say that I can’t have that woman anywhere near me. Sometimes I think I could kill her.”

There was such black rage in him that Jules shrank back. Gone was the gentle friend she adored and in his place was someone dark and brooding and dangerous – the same ruthless part of Danny, she imagined, that had been able to go into battle and destroy his enemy. A man who was trained to kill. The two personalities were flip sides of the same coin, and recalling this now her pulse began to skitter. The rumours and gossip she’d heard about him when she’d first arrived in Polwenna Bay yawned and stretched back into wakefulness:
unstable, dangerous, post-traumatic stress
,
keep away from Danny Tremaine!
Even Danny’s family had tiptoed around him. Had her feelings for him blinded her to the reality?

Danny’s face, drained of colour, was paler than the moon – and as Jules stared up at him he seemed just as far from reach. He was keeping secrets from her. Maybe he had been all along. Just how well did she actually know Danny Tremaine? Who was he really?

“I don’t understand,” Jules whispered. “What’s so awful that you can’t tell me? Don’t you trust me?”

“I trust you totally,” Danny said miserably. “But there are some things that I just can’t speak about, OK? Not even to you. Maybe I don’t trust myself. Besides, this isn’t just about me. If it was then it wouldn’t matter.”

They stared at one another and although they were only inches apart it might as well have been miles. In the cold moonlight the angles of his face were sharp and harsh, the scars cruel pale slashes. He felt like a stranger and Jules was close to tears. Then his fingers slid away from her shoulder and she felt as alone as a ship that had slipped its anchor. She rubbed at her shoulder and felt the flesh throb.

“Sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I think I need to be alone. I’m no good to anyone in a mood like this. The last place I trust myself to be right now is the pub.”

Jules swallowed. “I agree. The pub’s not a good idea. I’m fine, but where will you go? To the marina?” She wished she could invite him back to the vicarage, but that just wasn’t appropriate. Apart from the danger of her own feelings there was Sheila Keverne, St Wenn’s nosey verger, to worry about. Sheila would have a fit if she brought Danny back; she’d probably call the bishop, and Jules already had enough black marks in his book for one lifetime.