All The King's Horses: A Tale Of Eternal Love (7 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Kent dumped his bag on the bed and looked around the tin shack. Although the roof was lined the walls weren’t. Heading into summer those tin walls were going to make the place unbearably hot. He walked to the window over the kitchen sink and tried to open it. It wouldn’t budge. Hadn’t been opened for years he figured. He would fix it when he had a bit of spare time. He laughed out loud. He had plenty of spare time, he was out of work. He had tried pretty much everywhere in town the past few days without success, no one was hiring at this time of the year.

His phone rang, and so pulling it from his pocket he flipped it open, “Kent here.”

“Hello, Kent, it’s Christy.” Her voice sounded strained. “I wonder if I could see you soon, there’s something I need to tell you?”

“Sure I’ll run into town in about fifteen minutes.”

“No…I’d like to come to you.”

Kent felt a surge of panic. He didn’t want her to see what he was living in. Being a city girl she would be shocked. “You realize what I’m living in at the moment isn’t what you’re used to don’t you?”

“I don’t care about that I just need to see you.”

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She turned up fifteen minutes later, her car bumping heavily over the rough track to the shack.

“You forgot to warn me about the driveway,” she said, as soon as she got out of the car. “I was beginning to think I wasn’t going to make it.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he lead her to the door of the shack. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he said with trepidation.

She stepped inside and took in her surroundings. Kent could see that she was shocked, he knew she would be. “I did warn you,” he said.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” she said, her breathing coming faster than usual.

“Before you do I want to say something,” Kent said quickly.

She fell silent.

He pulled a chair out from underneath the table for her before seating himself. “I’ve had a think about what we talked about after dinner the other night,” he began.

“Kent…I need to…”

“Please, don’t interrupt me, Christy,” he said gently. “It’s important that I get this over with quickly so we can move on.”

She went silent again.

“I’ve had a chance to think about what you said, and I believe you’re right. I am letting pride get in the way of something special.”

“Kent…”

He held up a hand to silence her. “This won’t take long.” Reaching across the table he took her hand in his. “When we’re not together I can’t get you out of my head.”

Her heart was hammering away in her chest. She needed to tell him she was dying. But she needed to hear him tell her he loved her even more.

“This will only be temporary.” He waved his arm around the little shack. “I’ll soon bounce back. But I wouldn’t bounce back too well if I lost you.”

This was it. This was what she had longed to hear. If only her heart would stop slamming against her ribcage.

“I am falling in love with you, Christy Lane,” he said softly. “If you’ll take me on I’d like to ask you to be my woman.” He looked nervously at her for a moment. “I hope I haven’t put that too crudely. But if you’ll agree I promise you I’ll always treat you well, and will never be unfaithful to you.”

Her heart flipped completely over. “Yes,” she heard herself saying, “I will be your woman.”

His nervousness left him.”I was afraid you might say no after the other night. You didn’t seem too happy with me when I left.”

“I was just upset because I feared I was losing you. I wasn’t angry with you.”

“You aren’t going to lose me. You will be the biggest part of my life from now on.” He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. “Now, what is it you wanted to tell me?”

“Nothing,” she immediately burst into heavy sobbing. How could she tell him now? He looked so happy, and had just given her what she had wanted most of all. She couldn’t jeopardize that now, no matter how terrible she felt about deceiving him.

He left his chair and skirting around to her side of the table took her into his arms. “Hey…hey,” he said gently, “don’t cry. There’s nothing to be sad about. We’re only going to have good times from now on.”

She cried all the harder. If only he knew what times did lie ahead of them he wouldn’t be so confident. This evil that was stealthily growing inside of her was not going to give them good times. It was going to drag them down to the depths of despair before it finally killed her and destroyed his happiness.

“Come on,” he cooed, “dry your tears. Everything is going to be alright now.”

No it wasn’t. And when he finally discovered the truth was he going to hate her for it? She must tell him, she couldn’t let this madness continue.”Kent…”

“Let’s have a drink to celebrate,” he said. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you anything more than a plain old shandy, but I don’t think either of us will mind that.”

“No,” she put in quickly, “I want to get home.” She needed to get out of here before she blew everything. “I’d like to tell Daddy.” She had to get away from his joy that threatened to send her guilt into overdrive. If she got away now she would have time to think things over, without his handsome face and soothing voice clouding her judgment.

“Okay, well how about I drive round to your place tonight and take you out for a drink?”

“Can we save that for tomorrow?” She looked at him dimly through the tears. “This has all been rather sudden and I need some time to get my head around it.”

“You’re not getting cold feet already are you?”

“No, I’ll be back to being myself tomorrow,” she promised. “Come and see me then.”

The tears came back as she bounced along his driveway towards the main road. She could see him in her rearview mirror standing at the door of his little shack, no doubt wondering what had just happened. Oh why did it have to happen to her? Why was it her the cancer had struck? If it wasn’t for that wretched leukemia she would be over the moon at this moment. Kent London was every woman’s dream man.

♥

“He didn’t take it well then?” Jack asked, when she came through the door and he spotted her tear-filled eyes.

“I didn’t tell him.”

“Oh Christy,” Jack looked at her with disapproval, “why not?”

“I couldn’t,” she started sobbing. “He asked me to be his woman before I could tell him. He looked so happy that I just couldn’t tell him.”

Jack ran a hand through his silvering hair. “It certainly complicates things, but he still needs to be told.”

“I know.”

“Sooner rather than later.”

“Yes, I know, Daddy, and I will tell him. I just need a little time.”

“Time isn’t something Kent’s got a lot of, Sweetheart,” Jack said gently. “He’s falling in love with you as we speak. If you leave it any longer he’ll be in way over his head, and he won’t thank you when he discovers the truth, will he?”

“Let me do this my way, please, Daddy.”

He sighed. “Alright, but for my money you’re going about it all the wrong way, and I can see this backfiring on you big time.”

She was caught between a rock and a hard place. If she told him she feared he would run, and losing him would hurt. If she let the relationship play out for a while before telling him she would at least feel loved for a while. He would be furious when he found out, and she would be heartbroken when he left her, but oh how she wanted him, even if was only for a few weeks.”

She knew what she was doing was evil, and she hated herself for it. But she wanted to love and be loved one last time before she died.

♥

Kent took the coffee pot off the wood range and poured himself a cup. Something didn’t feel right about this whole business with Christy. There was something odd about it that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was weird the way she sobbed uncontrollably when he asked her to be his woman. Yes, he could understand a few tears; women were given to emotional displays at times of happiness. But he had never seen a woman let go the way she had unless she was unhappy.

Walking over to the table he sat down and cradled the cup between his hands. And how about the way she wanted to leave immediately afterwards? That was a turn up for the books. No sooner had he asked her and she was out the door thumping her car at breakneck speed back up the driveway. It was as if she couldn’t wait to get away from him.

He half-heartedly sipped at his coffee. And what was that nonsense about wanting to talk to him about something important only to say later on that it was nothing?

He sipped a little more of the hot liquid before placing the cup on the rough wooden table and watching the steam curl its way over the rim.

He hoped she didn’t have emotional problems. Could she have been on some kind of medication that was making her act strangely? He hoped not. He didn’t want to be dealing with anything like that. His life was complicated enough as it was without a mentally disturbed woman tagging along for the ride.

He glanced around the shack. Maybe it was this set-up that upset her. He couldn’t say he blamed her if it was. No woman would be happy with a hovel like this. Well, the boat was being put up for sale soon and he should get a little bit of money from that. He could use the proceeds to rent a house in town again, and as soon as he found a job she would be a lot happier about everything.

He finished off his coffee and took the empty cup over to the sink. It was strange really. For the past few years he had fought hard to meet the mortgage payments on the Bonnie Lass, and the stress and worry of that had very nearly killed him. But now that it was all taken out of his hands and he knew without a doubt he was going to lose the boat he felt strangely accepting of the whole thing. A certain calmness had descended on him that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. As much as he hated to lose the Bonnie Lass maybe he had been chasing down the wrong dream all these years.

He looked out the window and took in the view of the farmland that stretched away from the shack all the way to the bush clad hills a mile or so in the distance. He could still start again. He was only twenty-nine years old. He just had to come up with a line of work that would present him with the opportunity for advancement. Then if he and Christy ended up getting married, and God willing, had some kids, they could buy a patch of ground out here in the countryside and live a life of contentment.

There were plenty of dairy farming jobs on offer around the Bay of Islands at the moment. He had worked on one when he was younger so had the necessary skills. If he could get taken on by one of the bigger dairy units then at least the pay would be good even if the time off wasn’t anything to get excited about.

The real benefit though would be the opportunity to work his way up to a share-milking position. He could achieve that within five years. Ten years of building up capital and then he could either buy his own small farm or another boat. Mortgage free this time around. That held a certain appeal for him. No banks sticking their nosy beaks into his business. He could run things the way he wanted. He wouldn’t have to meekly take being dictated to by anyone. And of course, all the profit would be his. No more helplessly watching his hard earned cash being siphoned off by a greedy mortgage.

Yes, the idea had merit. He would make a list of all the dairy farms in the area and contact them to see if they were taking on staff at the moment. He was sure he would get a decent position on one of them.

CHAPTER NINE

“Hello, Kent,” Jack said, opening the door to him and then winking. “See, I’ve been practicing that name of yours. Come in, come in.”

Kent laughed. “You’ve done well. I was half expecting you to greet me as Trent or some other similar name.”

“No,” Jack said, grinning back at Kent’s amused face, “Christy’s been coaching me up on it for days, and now I’ve finally got it.” He tapped his temple with his forefinger. “And once I’ve got something I never forget it.”

“Glad to hear that, Jack. Much more answering to these different names and I would’ve started forgetting what it was myself.”

“No fear of that happening now,” Jack said confidently, “I won’t get it wrong again.” He turned his face towards the stairs. “Christy, Sweetheart…Trent’s here.”

“It’s Kent, Daddy.” Her voice carried a strong note of disapproval.

“Jack’s face fell. “Well if you hadn’t mentioned that Trent feller when you came in I wouldn’t have got confused,” he said to Kent in an accusing tone. “Now I’m going to have to learn your name all over again.”

Kent couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “It’s alright, Jack,” he assured him, “you call me whatever comes to mind. We’ll both know who you mean.”

Christy appeared on the landing, and as she slowly made her way down the stairs Kent took her in from top to toe. The strapless turquoise dress she had on highlighted her stunning eyes and the thick mane of auburn hair cascaded appealingly over her bare shoulders. If somebody had told him she was a movie star he wouldn’t have had any trouble believing it.

“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting?”

“No, I just got here. Anyway, Jack’s been keeping me entertained with his attempts at getting my name right.”

Christy’s eyes sent her father a scathing rebuke. “We’ve been over this name business for the past few days, Daddy. I don’t know why you find it so hard.”

“It was his fault.” Jack stabbed a finger in Kent’s direction, desperate to extricate himself from blame. “I had his name right when I opened the door, but then he started calling himself Trent, and I got confused again.”

Christy looked enquiringly at Kent who shook his head. “Not quite. But I’ll tell you all about it on the way to the theatre.”

“What’s the movie you two are off to see?” Jack asked, looking from one to the other.

“Not the movie theatre, Daddy. Kent’s taking me to a stage production.”

“I didn’t think this little town had stage productions,” Jack said innocently.

“It’s not being staged here. We’re driving down to Whangarei to see a production of Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“Ah, that’s nice. I remember seeing that one when I was a boy, couldn’t make head nor tail of it.”

“We’d best get a move on,” Kent said, “or we’ll miss the start of it.”

Christy gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek. “Now don’t wait up for me because we’re going to be back well after midnight.”

“Alright, well off you two kids go then, and have fun,” Jack said, shooing them out the door.

“Goodbye, Jack,” Kent said, hoping to catch the older man out on his name again.

“Goodbye…ah…oh no you don’t you young scoundrel,” he retorted. “You’ve got a wicked sense of humour about you.”

Kent was still grinning about it when they reached the car.

“I don’t know why he has so much trouble with names,” Christy complained as she clicked her seatbelt in.

Kent slipped the key into the ignition and started the car up. “I find it kind of amusing,” he admitted. “You can see the effort written all over his face when he’s trying to come up with the right name, but he never does.”

Christy giggled. “He comes out with some real shockers sometimes. It’s times like that I wish I could just slip through a crack in the floor and disappear.”

Kent looked at her mischievously. “I hope I’m around to witness a few of those, I can always do with a good laugh.”

They drove on for a few minutes in silence, but Christy knew she owed him an explanation for yesterday. She wasn’t ready to tell him the truth and that made her feel like a fraud, but she just wasn’t ready to risk losing him yet.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” she said, carefully choosing her words, “I must have come across like a hysterical twit.”

He reached over to turn the stereo down. “Yeah, what was that all about? I thought you’d be happy about the two of us getting together.”

“I am,” she said suddenly, determined that he wouldn’t think she was only half interested. “It’s just that I’ve been a bit emotional lately. With me nearly drowning, and then Daddy moving up to live with me, and you coming into my life, it’s been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster.”

He nodded and she was pleased to see that he at least seemed to accept her explanation. And what was more, she hadn’t lied. All three of those reasons had been making her more emotional than usual.

“I’ve been thinking about getting a job in the dairy farming industry,” he said casually. “There’s scope for a man to work his way up there.”

“Milking cows you mean?”

“Yes. A man can advance a lot quicker in dairying than he can in most other industries.” He glanced at her side profile as she stared at the road ahead and hoped she wasn’t put off by the idea. “The hours are quite long though. I’d have to work twelve days in a row before I got two days off. But the money is good.”

She was still staring straight ahead.

“What do you think?”

“I would barely get to see you if you worked twelve days straight.”

“Yeah, it’d be tough,” he conceded. “But with the recession on at the moment there isn’t much else going. Certainly nothing that pays well.”

She placed her hand lightly on his thigh. “I’d rather you got paid less and worked fewer hours. I’d see more of you that way.”

“You would, but I’d get nowhere financially. I’m not getting any younger, and with the boat’s failure I’m behind everyone else my age.” He sighed. “I’d prefer not to be starting at the bottom again, but there you go, needs must, as they say.”

“You have to do what you think is right, Kent,” she said quietly, and with a touch of sadness, for she knew if he took this job she wouldn’t see him from one day to another, and she didn’t have enough time left on this earth to wait for him to gather his nest egg.

“I’ve got a few interviews next week,” he said hopefully. “There’s one job on a big farm that sounds very promising.”

“Tell me about your life,” she said, hoping to change the depressing topic. “How you got into boats and all that sort of thing.”

He shook his head. “There’s nothing interesting about my life. It’s been a pretty humdrum existence to be honest.”

“I wouldn’t be sitting next to you now if I thought you were uninteresting,” she said. “I would like to know as much about you as I can.”

“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. “I was brought up in the Bay of Islands, and of course, you can’t live here for any length of time without messing around with boats.”

“How old were you when you got your first one?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Nine or ten, it was only a small dinghy with a two horsepower outboard but man did I think it was cool.” He chuckled at the memory. “I named her ‘Wave Rider’ and worked for a whole year mowing neighbours lawns and splitting firewood to earn the money to buy her.” He sighed. “But oh, what summers I had cruising the Bay of Islands in her. I swear there wasn’t a single island I didn’t land on and explore.”

“And that first summer you owned her gave you your love of the sea?”

“It sure did. I knew from then on that I wanted to make my living from the sea, but to do that I needed a boat quite a bit big than the Wave Rider.”

“And way more expensive!”

“Very much so, the deposit alone for the Bonnie Lass was two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

“Things will get better for you,” she said sympathetically, guessing why he had suddenly fallen silent.

He smiled at her. “They already have. You’ve come into my life.”

“You’ve never mentioned your mother.”

The smile vanished. “I didn’t have her for very long. She died when I was thirteen from ovarian cancer. I never want to go through something like that again.”

And here she was, about to put him through that very thing. She fought against the feelings of guilt that were tugging at her conscience.

“I have some very happy memories of her though,” he continued. “She used to sing to me when I was little, lullabies and nursery rhymes to put me to sleep.”

“What was your favourite?”

“That would have to be Humpty Dumpty. She used to sit me on her lap and when she got to the bit where Humpty falls she’d tip me upside down. I used to love it.” He recalled how close they had been. How long and hard he had cried on his first day at school because he missed her so much. The hours they spent on the beach on weekends and school holidays making sand castles, swimming, and laughing together. Oh how she loved to laugh. “When I was older she would suddenly break into song. It was usually the latest hit, and she had a sensational voice. She could have been a professional singer if she’d wanted to.”

“I’m sorry you lost her so young, it must have been hard on you.”

She didn’t know the half of it. His father had gone to pieces with the death of his wife. She had been his world, so he was not able to give his son the support he so badly needed at the time. They had lived the next few years in the same house almost like strangers, barely speaking, each wrapped up in his private misery. Kent would cry himself to sleep at night, only stopping long enough to catch the muffled sobs of the devastated man in the room across the hallway. “Yes, it was hard,” he said quietly.

“And you lost your father a few years ago?”

“Yes, we had grown a lot closer in the last few years of his life,” Kent admitted. “We shared a lot of the same interests I guess, the sea being one of them. But Dad had worked himself to death, and he aged terribly after mum died. It was the sorrow I guess that finally wore his body out. He died in his sleep a day after his sixtieth birthday.” His eyes wandered over the road in front of him. “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, “I’m talking too much.”

“No you’re not, I asked you to tell me.”

“We’re meant to be having a fun evening. But it’s starting to resemble a wake.”

“You loved your parents. They are the people who helped to make you the wonderful man that you are. It’s only natural you would want to remember them, and at times talk about them.”

He loosened his grip on the steering wheel. “I think I’m going to like having you around.”

“I sincerely hope so. But if I ever become a pest just tell me and I’ll slip quietly away.”

He grinned at the comment. “I don’t think a jilted woman ever just slips quietly away. In my experience she never goes down without a fight.”

“Cross me and I’ll plug ya,” Christy said, in her best gangster voice.

“Not if I get you first,” he quipped, getting in on the fun.

Christy formed her fingers into a gun and pointed them at Kent. “Go ahead, Punk…make my day.”

He slowly shook his head at her. “Has anyone told you you’re seriously warped?”

She giggled. “All ta time, but I made sure it wuz ta last time dey ever told me.”

“You’re a laugh a minute aren’t you?”

“What’s life without a bit of frivolity?”

“My thoughts exactly, now would you kindly take that gun you’re poking in my ribs away?”

She giggled louder this time. “Wad’s da madda, Punk, losin’ ya nerve?”

“Tickling a man in the ribs when he’s driving at sixty miles an hour is dicing with death.”

“Aw, ya are losin’ ya nerve, Punk.”

“You’re impossible,” he said, glancing in her direction.

“Just keep ya peepers on ta road, Punk, and I might just let ya live.”

“How long are you going to keep this up?”

“See, you’re sick of me already. I knew it wouldn’t last.” She pulled her fingers away and pretended to slip them into a holster. “I bet Bonnie never had this problem with Clyde.”

“I bet Bonnie didn’t stick a gun in Clyde’s ribs and call him punk every five seconds.”

“Aw, yer jus sore cos I got ta drop on ya.”

Kent twisted his head sideways to look at her. “Just how many gangster movies have you watched over your lifetime?” He suddenly poked his fingers into her ribs. “Ah, now who’s got the drop on who?”

“Aw, you rat…you dirty rat you.”

“Hey,” Kent said, “that was actually a pretty good James Cagney. I’m impressed.”

“Jimmy was my favourite, but Mum hated me watching all those old movies. She said a young girl shouldn’t be watching so much violence. But I loved them.”

“I can see there’s never going to be a dull moment with you around.”

“I’s aims to please.”

“So were gangster movies the only ones you watched when you were growing up?”