Marion Lennox - Bushfire Bride

Toby was asleep. The dogs were far off, fruitlessly chasing gulls in endless circles around the beach. There were no witnesses to what was happening here.

There was no problem with witnesses. No one would gainsay her this pleasure. Dottie had told her that as she’d packed the gorgeous lingerie and pushed her out the door to what she’d thought would be a romantic weekend with Michael.

Only it would never have worked. Even if Michael had been…nice, she could never have let him near her. The guilt had still been with her. The overriding bitterness at what could have been.

But all of that was lost the moment Hugo’s hands touched hers. He pulled her into him and as his mouth claimed hers and as she melted effortlessly into him, all she felt was joy.

Oh, the pleasure. The aching wonder. Eight years of sorrow and loneliness were all dispelled in this one kiss. In this meeting of bodies, one with the other.

It was a kiss, but it was so much more than a kiss. It was a melting of barriers, a moving forward, a reaffirmation of life itself.

She couldn’t pull away. She knew she should but she hadn’t the strength. Rachel, who’d been so strong for so long, was falling now as she hadn’t let herself ever fall. She’d been alone and now…she was home. She was where she belonged. Hugo was kissing her and she was moving from an old life into a new, like a butterfly emerging from a faded and torn chrysalis to begin a new life.

Hugo.

Life or death. Living or dying.

I choose…life.

The dogs disturbed them. The flock of gulls they’d been chasing finally wheeled out to sea. Delirious with excitement, the dogs came hurtling up the beach, soaking wet. They landed on the picnic rug and proceeded to shake what seemed gallons of seawater over everyone.

Including Toby. He woke and whimpered a little. Hugo pulled away for an instant and it was enough. To let reality in.

To let Rachel’s reality sink in.

What was she doing?

And there they all were-the old doubts, the fears and the loneliness and the endless future. They hadn’t disappeared. They’d been subsumed by the moment but they were still there.

The pressure of Hugo’s mouth was still on her lips. She put her fingers up to touch them but Hugo was before her. Toby had stirred and settled, the dogs had wheeled away again and he was catching her fingers in his lovely big hands, and there was such a look of tenderness on his face that she must surely melt…

‘Rachel…’

‘No,’ she faltered, and pulled away. Reluctantly, he released her. He watched her, his eyes calm. Something had changed for him, too, she thought frantically. He knew.

He couldn’t know. He mustn’t.

‘Rachel, what’s wrong?’

‘I’m married,’ she said, and there was such a blunt finality about the words that the look of tenderness shuttered down on his face as if it had never been.

‘You said…you wanted out.’

‘I didn’t.’ She was hauling herself together now-somehow. She had to get off this beach. She had to get away from this man.

She had to leave.

‘I don’t want-’ he started, but she was before him.

‘Neither do I.’ She was close to tears. Here she was, lying again. She wanted Hugo so much that she was tearing apart and she could feel herself disintegrating. ‘I-it’s almost dark,’ she stammered. ‘You have to check Kim. I…I’m tired. I need my bed. Please, Hugo, can we go?’

She rose and hauled her beach towel around herself like a shield. It was stupid. Nothing could protect her from what she was feeling. Nothing.

‘Can we go?’ she whispered again. ‘Please, Hugo. I don’t need this. I can’t… I can’t.’

And there was nothing for them to do but to leave.

There was nothing for Hugo to do but to look at her with hungry eyes and a hopeless heart.

Kim was fine when he arrived back at the hospital, but Hugo took his time with the injured teenager. He hardly knew why. Kim was deeply asleep. Her exhausted parents had finally decided to cease their vigil and leave their daughter in the nurses’ care. Hugo could have simply glanced at the observation chart and left, but instead he carefully checked the wound, unwinding the bandages and surveying his handiwork with care. David, the ginger-haired nurse who was in charge tonight, watched with thoughtful appreciation.

‘You know she’s fine. I checked the leg myself a couple of hours ago. No temp, the leg’s as pink as the other one, she’s having pain but it seems to be settling-even her parents are relaxing now. Why not you, Dr McInnes?’

‘I’m relaxing,’ Hugo snapped, and David grinned.

‘Yeah, and I’m a monkey’s uncle. You’re tense as all get-out. You’re not expecting any dramas here, are you?’

Hugo looked down at Kim’s face. The fifteen-year-old was sleeping soundly, exhausted from the effects of trauma and relaxing deeply into the drugs he was using for pain-killing. She looked…fine. No, he wasn’t expecting any trauma here. Thanks to Rachel.

What was Rachel’s story?

Why did he need to know?

‘She’ll be OK,’ he managed, but David was still watching him.

‘You’re avoiding going home?’ David asked softly, and Hugo winced. Was he so transparent?

‘No.’

But David didn’t believe him. He was a fine nurse and part of that was that he read people well. ‘There’s nothing here for you to do,’ he told Hugo, his eyes still thoughtful. ‘The last of the fire crews rang in half an hour ago. Because there’s no wind up on the ridge, there’s been no dramas at all-not even a bad case of smoke in the eyes. You can go home to bed, Dr McInnes.’

‘Yeah.’

‘And you ought to.’ David was watching him with an intensity that Hugo found unnerving. ‘The forecast for tomorrow is horrible. If they don’t hold the firebreaks…’

‘The town will be safe. The river…’

‘The river will hold it this side. But the other side…’

‘You know the plan is for everyone to get over here and stay.’ Hugo shifted uneasily, thinking it through. Forcing his mind away from Rachel and onto the urgency of what lay ahead. ‘People’s homes are insured. They’ve had warning to leave. They’ll come.’

‘People do damned stupid things. Get yourself to bed, Hugo.’ David’s voice was suddenly rough with concern. ‘You know you’re going to be needed.’

‘I’ll be fine.’

Silence. Then… ‘At least you have Dr Harper.’ David’s eyes were still probing. ‘Rachel,’ he amended, and watched Hugo’s face twist. David looked even more thoughtful. Hmm, the expression on his face said. Was that the way the wind blew, then?

It wasn’t up to Hugo to enlighten him. ‘Yeah, at least I have Rachel,’ he snapped, and shoved his hands deep into his pockets and glared.

‘So go to bed and thank your stars you have her while you do,’ David told him.

‘Right.’ He was right. Of course he was right. Go to bed and be thankful…

To bed. To sleep? That was a joke!

And Rachel?

She lay awake and thought about Craig.

But she didn’t ring Dottie.

RACHEL was awake before he was. As Hugo appeared in the kitchen for breakfast just after six, Rachel burst through the screen door, a dog attached to a leash in either hand.

She stopped short when she saw him. Discomfited. The dogs bounded across the kitchen to greet him and he bent to hug them. Giving himself time to collect himself.

The dogs were great. Afghan and mongrel were becoming fast friends.

Michael would have kittens. Aristocracy mixing with the hoi-polloi. Ouch.

Michael. There he was, thinking about Michael again. Why the hell couldn’t he keep himself from thinking about Michael?

Rachel was wearing short shorts, and a crop top and sandals. She was all bare legs and glowing face and shiny hair.

How could he not think of Michael?

He had to get himself together.

‘Hi,’ he tried, and waited.

‘Hi.’

‘You’ve been to the beach.’ That much was obvious. The dogs were damp and sand-coated, and Penelope the Afghan had such a look of bliss on her dopey face he almost felt sorry for her that she had to return to the city. To Michael.

There he was again.

Rachel had to return to the city to Michael. The thought was enough to make the beginnings of his smile fade completely.

‘I couldn’t sleep,’ Rachel told him, and the tension escalated by about a mile. She hadn’t been able to sleep. Neither had he. Because…

What was he thinking of? Heck, he had better…more serious things to think about than why Rachel hadn’t been able to sleep.

Like a bushfire.

‘It’s bad,’ Rachel told him, moving on before he could. ‘The wind came up before the sun did. The dogs and I could see the flames rising higher on the ridge while we waited for the sunrise.’

How long had she been on the beach? It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. Move on…

‘Crisis today,’ he said, and turned his back to put on the kettle. He was wearing his boxer shorts and nothing else. That was what he always wore while he ate breakfast and why his lack of clothes bothered him now he didn’t know.

‘What precautions are we taking?’ she asked, waiting for him to finish at the sink so she could pour bowls of water for the dogs. Then she turned her attention to toast, as though she was completely unaware of him.

How could she be unaware of him? he thought savagely. He was climbing walls here! In her shorts and her tiny crop top that left nothing to the imagination, he was so aware of her that everything else was blotted out completely.

Like the little matter of a town threatened by bushfire.

‘We’re setting a safety zone up on the beach,’ he managed. ‘Maybe you saw…’

‘There were people on the beach, setting up equipment, as I was leaving. The safety zone’s changing from the hall?’