Chapter Three
Tiny wrens flitted from branch to branch in the chaotic hedge lining the footpath. Pruning was on the to-do list, along with a few dozen other chores. Moving from an apartment to a house was a huge step up in the maintenance department but it meant there was always something to keep her busy.
Letting the gate latch click behind her, she gave her head a shake, rattling away the mental dust that had stormed in and layered itself across her brain.
Movement, fresh air, caffeine: a sure-fire remedy for brain fog.
Almost as good, but not quite, as a bush walk.
Maybe she could squeeze a short one in after work.
Just as the thought sparked, the toe of her sandal caught a tree root jutting out onto the nature strip from her neighbour’s yard. She hit the ground with a thud and an ‘Oh, shit.’
A hand appeared, broad and tanned, nails short and clean, and the body it belonged to crouched beside her. ‘You okay?’
‘Yes, thank you, I’m fine.’ She gave an awkward laugh. ‘Just a little embarrassed to be falling over in public.’ And then she looked up. Right into those dark caramel swirls. Oh God, did it have to be him that came to her rescue?
She pushed herself to her feet and once she was upright, he let go of her elbow. Dirt stained the knees of her pants. She swiped her hands roughly across the marks and brushed the remnants of earth from her hands.
‘Thank you.’
‘No problem.’
Her cheeks burned, ostensibly from the mortification of the public fall. Possibly also from the ridiculously schoolgirl physical responses she seemed to be having whenever this man was in touching distance.
Cole pointed towards the house. ‘So, is my brother still here?’
‘Oh, no … he … we …’ Why was she being such an inarticulate moron?
‘We cut the session a little short. Just easing into things. He left about ten minutes ago.’ Given that Owen wasn’t exactly a chatterbox and seemed to resent his brother, there was a good chance he’d keep the details of their session private.
‘Right.’ A furrow formed between Cole’s brows. He huffed out a sigh.
‘Sorry, is that a problem?’
‘Hopefully not. But my kid brother has a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’d better go find him.’
‘He’s probably just walked up to the shops.’
Cole scoffed. ‘Or the pub.’
‘But he’s underage.’
‘He also has an older mate who works behind the bar.’
‘Ah, right.’
Cole’s sigh could not have been deeper. ‘I’ll head up there now.’ There was something mischievous in the way his mouth dimpled. And mesmerising. ‘Sure you’re okay?’
‘Oh, yes. Thank you.’ She straightened, responding to the imaginary string running from her core and up through the centre of her skull.
‘I can come with you to find him. I’m heading into town too.
’ The fact the kid was on the loose was actually her doing.
The least she could do was help track him down.
He stood bizarrely still, pursing his lips as if assessing the validity of her suggestion. Finally, he waved a hand towards the ute parked by the offending tree, a horseshoe logo semi-circling his name and phone number: Cole Harrison. Farrier .
An alarm went off in her brain like a high-pitched security siren, a warning flashing behind her eyes.
Cole Harrison. Danger.
Settling herself into the passenger seat, she made sure to stay facing forward as Cole edged the car away from the kerb. Sitting beside him as if they were headed out for a midday picnic was already doing strange things to her nether regions. She would not risk looking directly into those eyes.
‘So, you think Owen will be at the hotel?’
‘Good chance.’ He rounded the corner and cruised along the main street. ‘He seems to have made getting himself into trouble his sole objective in life.’
‘Teenage boys often do.’ When they weren’t given boundaries, when they were left to their own devices.
‘I guess you see a lot of it in your line of work.’ He glanced towards her, then back at the road. ‘I know you can’t discuss Owen specifically but any tips in general for reining in the wild boys?’
‘A lot depends on the family situation and background. Boys his age will often be reacting against authority or trying to assert their independence. Their personality type is a factor of course, whether or not they’re easily influenced, whether they’re chasing thrills or acting out of boredom.
There’s no hard and fast rules but keeping them busy, respecting their privacy to a certain degree and recognising their need for space as well as support. ’
‘So it’s like walking a tightrope strung across a lake full of piranha at three thousand feet with your eyes closed.’
A laugh bubbled up from her belly as Cole parked his ute a few spaces down from the hotel. He might be a farrier but he seemed to have a way with words. ‘Pretty much.’
‘Well, we appreciate any help you can give him. And us. He really is a good kid, just a bit misguided.’
‘Happy to do my job.’ Not that today’s session suggested any such thing. She would definitely do better next time.
Her head turned of its own volition to find Cole Harrison staring right at her. She could almost hear the click as their eyes locked. An electric current vibrated through her veins, setting her skin on fire. Damn. So much for her resolve to keep things businesslike.
‘Would you like me to—’
‘No need to—’
They spoke at the same time, but neither of them looked away.
After what seemed like an age but was probably a couple of seconds, Cole waved a hand. ‘I’ll just …’ He looked out the windscreen. ‘Shit, there he is. I’d better go.’
Hannah followed his gaze and there in the doorway of the hotel stood Owen, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a vape while he exhaled a cloud of nicotine. The car door slammed and Cole was loping up the street.
Should she join them? Make sure everything was okay? Risk being there while Owen revealed what had happened in their session?
No. Better to stay away and let his brother deal with the situation.
She climbed out of the car and crossed the street, that same siren going off in her head. It had nothing to do with Owen Morgan. Everything to do with his brother.
A smile smarted her cheeks as she paused mid-step on the track.
Mint-white blooms for as far as the eye could see.
An entire sea of flannel flowers. She ran her fingers over the soft surface of a petal.
Like velvet. A pincushion of crimson and yellow spikes created a mossy mosaic in the centre of the flower.
A bug landed, traversing the maze, collecting pollen along the way.
Lacy grey-green leaves reached out from the stem like clusters of tiny hands reaching for the light.
Why had she left it so long to visit this place when it was no more than a fifteen-minute drive from town?
Work, of course. It was always work; that was the way she operated.
Righting herself, she made her way deeper into the scrub, the scent of salt air tickling her nostrils, a cool evening breeze prickling the skin of her arms. Focusing on each step, taking in the landscape, staying in the moment.
This was what walking did for her: cleared out the cobwebs and allowed her to recalibrate.
And right now, that was something she sorely needed.
How the hell had she let herself get so distracted in that session with Owen?
Yes, his case had brought up things she’d spent her entire adult life trying to forget, and yes, she had the Lenore issue to grapple with, but she was a professional, for God’s sake, prided herself on the quality of her work, on her efficiency and integrity.
Cracking up like that was totally unacceptable.
Next week she’d make sure to be better prepared.
The walking trail wound through a series of boulders, rounded and smoothed by the coastal winds, stands of bright yellow grevillea and a sea of those breathtaking flannel flowers, until it reached a cliff overlooking the ocean.
An ideal place for a rest. Settling herself on the rocky shelf, she took a sip of cool water from her flask and peered out towards the horizon.
The sinking sun at her back had painted the evening a palette of peach and mauve, thin ribbons of light streaking the watercolour sky.
There was more to life than work, she knew that.
Counselled her clients to create balance in their lives, even though she had very little.
Helped them see that, to move forward, they needed to deal with their past, and yet she’d never managed to make peace with her own.
But the droning inside her body that she generally managed to contain was working its way up to fever pitch, like an angry hive of bees ready to swarm, as it always did at this time of year.
As a newcomer to town, she was happy to be a fish out of water in Yarrabee most of the time, but with festivities ramping up, and being so much harder to avoid than in the city, her resistance was wavering.
Then there was Lenore. Her request still hanging even though the answer was inevitable. As inevitable as death.
A movement to her left had Hannah twisting to the side.
A gecko sunning himself on the still-warm granite, toes splayed, front legs upright, head angled as if listening.
As if watching. Waiting. Her chest expanded like a freshly inflated ballon.
How lucky she was to be here, to be alive, to be connected to a small lizard whose sole purpose in life was to exist.
But humans needed more. Maslow had taught her that with his hierarchy.
And she’d achieved so much according to his scale: all her basic needs met, professional fulfilment, a sense of achievement and pride in her work, physical safety and financial security …
but somehow she’d seemed to have bombed out in the love and belonging category.
It was why she’d come to Yarrabee, certainly the belonging part, and yet she’d made no real effort to become part of the community.
Maybe Crystal was right and the planets aligning was an opportunity to change.
Maybe facing her Christmas demons once and for all would banish them completely.
And having Lenore and Nancy come to stay provided exactly the right opportunity.
‘Thanks, little guy.’
At the sound of her voice the reptile scurried away, disappearing into a crevice. Laughter trickled up Hannah’s throat and spilled into the twilight.
She pulled her phone from her pocket and typed out the text she’d rehearsed over and over in her head.
No mention of illness or failed treatment.
No downbeat sympathy. Better to keep it breezy and positive.
Even if it did mean turning her plans upside down and not disappearing into the wilderness like a female version of Bear Grylls.