Amy's Touch (34 page)

‘I’ve waited years for this,’ he said as he drew her head onto his chest and began to stroke her hair. ‘It’s only a small revenge compared to what they’ve tried to do to us, but even so it’s still very sweet.’

‘Indeed. And I believe it’s an omen that things are going to get better and better,’ she replied as she snuggled up against him.
Please God, make it so…

Danny reined in his horse and stood up in the stirrups to get a better look at the newly completed cottage on his coconut plantation. It wasn’t as grand a house as the one at Drovers, but with two bedrooms, a huge living area and kitchen, and a bathroom in an outside lean-to, it was adequate for his needs. Abe Hennin had helped him design the house, and had advised on where to site it and what materials to use. From the long verandah, with its awning and screens to keep out the mosquitoes, he could see over much of the plantation and down to the water, where
Amy’s Rainbow
lay at anchor.

A satisfied grin spread across his face as he reviewed how well he’d done since the pirate attack four years ago. He was financially independent, having paid off his loan to the bank, and had a very healthy account balance. His island trading business was thriving, with Verne Dennison skippering the
Geraldine
and him captaining
Amy’s Rainbow
, and he’d recently paid cash for more land to increase coconut production; he’d also built a processing plant to produce oil, copra and other by-products of coconut fibre.

His life would have been perfect if—a sigh fluttered from his lips—Amy was here to share it with him. Annoyed with himself forallowing his thoughts to drift to things that couldn’t be, he flicked the reins and his horse moved forward. The mental wanderings persisted as he reviewed his time in Fiji. The passage of time, more than six years, had not diminished his feelings for her. At night his dreams were wrapped in longing for her, a yearning that went so deep it made him ache inside.

But, as time was wont to do, the passing of the years had also wrought other changes with regard to his views on his brother and Amy. They’d been fated to be together, and he’d been fated to be alone. Complete forgiveness had taken time, but he had healed sufficiently to want to write to Drovers Way. Something he would do when
Amy’s Rainbow
sailed to Suva tomorrow—he’d received news that Abe’s health was fading. He was quietly relieved to be reestablishing contact with Amy and Randall. A part of him really missed knowing how they were getting on and what was happening at Drovers, and in Gindaroo too. He would—he couldn’t help it—always think of the Flinders Ranges as home, no matter how many years he spent in the South Pacific.

But now he had to see Abe before it was too late. The old man had been good to him over the years, helped him get started, given him fatherly advice on how to run his life and the business, and generally been the closest friend, apart from Verne Dennison, Danny had in Fiji.

Amy’s Rainbow
docked at midday in Suva, and after a quick visit to the bank Danny hurried to Abe’s cottage. Gretel was in the front garden—she’d insisted on a picket fence to keep neighbours’ wandering domestic animals out, so she could have a garden. The climate was too hot for her beloved tulips so she contented herself with bougainvilleas, and an abundance of flowering shrubs including hibiscus, frangipani and oleanders, with smaller native plants in pots that bordered the path to the front door.

‘Gretel, hello.’

‘Oh, Danny,’ Gretel’s eyes began to water as soon as she recognised him. ‘He, Grandfather, is…not well. Verne and Jamie came to see him this morning. Their visit tired him.’

Danny noticed that her cheeks turned pink when she said Verne’s name. Interesting. Was a romance in the winds there? he wondered.

She beckoned him forward. ‘Come inside. I’m going to make some lunch, though Grandfather has no appetite. You will eat too?’

‘You know I can’t resist your cooking,’ he answered warmly. He put his arm around her shoulders in a sympathetic gesture as they walked up the path. ‘What does Dr Singh say?’

She bit her lip to stop it from trembling. ‘He says that Grandfather’s heart is failing and nothing more can be done. It…oh, Danny, it is only a matter of time.’

Danny gave her a hug. ‘I’m so sorry.’ There was no doubting the sincerity in his voice.

A flood of memories assailed him as they walked down the wide hallway to Abe’s bedroom. He remembered clearly the first time he and Abe had met, on a rickety wharf near a native village, and the day he’d dropped the money for the lugger onto Abe’s bed, and everything the old man had taught him about sailing and trading. Danny owed Abe a debt of gratitude that could never be repaid, but he had tried to by being Abe’s friend and, whenever he could, by making his last years as pleasant as possible.

‘Danny, while I prepare lunch, go and sit with him.’

Danny nodded and opened Abe’s bedroom door. He’d halfexpected the room to be shrouded in darkness, the shutters drawn, but that wasn’t so. Abe sat in a padded chair by the window, watching the various activities in the street outside. Danny hid his shock at seeing how much his friend had deteriorated since he’d last visited. The once robust sailing man with his thatch of grey hair had shrunk in size and stature to not much bigger than his granddaughter, yet while he had wrinkles aplenty, his eyes continued to reflect a spark of life.

‘Danny, my boy. Good to see you. Come, sit by me and we’ll talk.’

It was Danny who did most of the talking. He saw well enough that just saying a few words exhausted Abe, and as he talked he sensed that Abe wanted to say something important. Finally, the old man got it out.

‘My race is almost run, Danny. No,’ he shook a shaky index finger at the younger man, ‘don’t try to tell me otherwise. I want you to
promise one thing.’ He stopped to catch his breath. ‘After I’m gone, you’ll look after Gretel. She shouldn’t be alone here. There’ll be sufficient funds to send her back to her family in Holland, if she wants to go.’

‘Gretel is a strong-willed woman. After so many years she may not want to return to Holland. You know, she’s settled in quite well.’

Abe’s next remark came as a surprise. ‘I don’t want her to be alone. I’m leaving her the cottage and enough funds to,’ a hacking cough interrupted his words, ‘support herself in a modest fashion.’ Blue eyes locked with Danny’s. ‘You could marry her, my boy. She’s ready for marriage and you like each other. Besides,’ his chuckle was a noticeable wheeze, ‘it’s time you settled down, raised a family of your own.’

Danny blinked several times then wondered how he could possibly answer and not hurt the old man’s feelings or, indirectly, insult Gretel. ‘I—I’m honoured that you consider me worthy of your granddaughter, and while it’s true that we get along well together, she isn’t in love with me nor I with her. It would be unfair for us both to marry without love. However, I promise you this, Abe: I will take care of Gretel and look after her interests.’

And while he didn’t want to disappoint Abe, it was up to Gretel to decide whether she wanted to stay in Fiji or return to Holland. He was developing a sneaking suspicion, now that he had taken the time to think about how Verne Dennison behaved around Gretel, that perhaps Verne had more than friendship on his mind.

‘But you won’t marry her?’

Danny smiled benignly. Abe was persistent, but then Amy’s image danced before his eyes. ‘That’s not possible.’

Abe nodded that he understood, and then, worn out by the conversation, his eyelids closed and he began to doze. The two men sat in companionable silence for several minutes, and when the ailing man didn’t stir, Danny quietly left the room to join Gretel in the kitchen and told her that Abe was sleeping.

As he watched Gretel move about the kitchen, a pang of regret found its way into Danny’s thoughts. It would have been easy to come to care for Gretel. She had many worthwhile attributes: good looks, a warm personality, and she was a conscientious worker and a great cook. But…Amy was so deeply entrenched in Danny’s heart that there was no room for anyone else, no matter how tempting the thought might be.

Danny delayed his next trip to the islands to be with Abe until the old man died peacefully in his sleep. Respected by those who earned their living at sea, and loved by the natives because of his fairness and generosity, as well as being liked by many of the Europeans who’d settled in Fiji, Abe’s funeral was one of the best attended for many years. And, Danny decided, when a suitable period of mourning for Abe had passed, he would, as his old friend had charged him, sound out Verne’s intentions towards Gretel.

Randall sat at his father’s desk in the study, his gaze downcast as he re-read the first, special letter he’d received from Danny. It was a long missive, detailing all that had happened to Danny since he’d been in Fiji: his successes, his expanding business. Randall smiled; he was glad for his brother. It wasn’t hard to read between the lines of Danny’s neat, copperplate handwriting. It was clear that Danny had at last come to terms with what had happened between Randall and Amy. The long-held burden of guilt Randall had shouldered for so long began to lift. Thank God, he thought, as he let out a relieved sigh.

Taking a leaf of paper from the top drawer of the desk, and dipping his pen into the inkwell, Randall began to write a reply to his brother. He’d just enough time to do so—and to let Amy add a postscript, because he knew she would want to—before he went into Gindaroo on business.

Nora Allen clicked her tongue in annoyance as she searched the homestead for Kate. The youngster was a real scallywag. She loved to play hide-and-seek, to raid the pantry whenever she could for homemade biscuits, and to chase the hens around the yard for the fun of it, causing them to squawk and flap about in mild terror. Amy, who wasn’t well, was resting, and had left Kate in Nora’s care.

There were so many places in and around the homestead for the child to hide, but more often than not it was Tinga who gave Kate’s hiding place away by barking near her location. Today, Tinga wasn’t barking and, like Kate, couldn’t be found anywhere.

After an hour, searching every nook and cranny that Nora had found Kate hiding in on other occasions, she admitted defeat. Then she remembered that once she’d found Kate at the bottom of the home paddock, hiding behind a clump of saltbush. She rushed over
but Kate wasn’t there either. The child was known to be fearless and, with her adventurous spirit, she could have wandered even further away from the homestead.

Returning to the kitchen, Nora made lunch for Amy, Jim and Mike—Randall was in Gindaroo, appealing to the bank for another loan extension—and waited for them to come to the kitchen. That Kate didn’t return when she banged the old tin pot to tell everyone lunch was ready deepened Nora’s fears sufficiently for her to tell Jim of her concern.

Amy overheard Nora and Jim talking. ‘What’s this about Kate? Is she playing hide-and-seek again?’

‘I’ve been searching for her for over an hour. I can’t find her. Tinga’s missing too,’ Nora admitted, her features tightening as her sense of alarm grew.

Amy frowned. ‘Kate has a good appetite and she usually comes out of hiding when you bang that old pot.’

‘So long as she’s close enough to hear the banging,’ Mike commented.

‘I told her at breakfast that one of the horses gave birth to a foal last night. Did you check the yard behind the barn?’ Jim asked his wife.

‘Twice.’

‘Maybe she’s fallen asleep in her hiding place,’ Amy said, trying not to panic yet. ‘Let’s eat quickly then we’ll all look for her. One of us is bound to find her.’ However, she’d lost her appetite and merely pushed the food around on her plate. Dear God, please let her daughter be safe. Kate knew, she’d been told often enough, not to wander out of sight of the homestead, but she was sometimes wilful and independent, remarkably so for one so young, and had had to be chastised more than once for being too adventurous.

While the men washed down their thickly sliced corned beef and pickle sandwiches with mugs of tea, Amy went and stood at the kitchen sink, looking out the window. Where could Kate be and what would Randall do if he were here?

‘I’m sure Kate’s playing one of her games. She’s hidden somewhere and I haven’t been able to find her,’ Nora said, trying to make light of the situation.

‘We’re all going to look for the little rascal,’ Amy decided. She looked at Mike and Jim. ‘Right now, eh?’ Whereupon the two men downed the last of their tea and stood up, ready for her orders.

‘We’ll check the house and the outbuildings again, and if she’s not there we’ll saddle up and each take a different direction. Jim, you ride south; Mike, go west; and I’ll go north,’ Amy said decisively.

‘Amy, do you think that’s a good idea, you riding?’ Nora expressed her concern. ‘You’re into your seventh month.’

Amy knew she was on the verge of being too far gone to sit astride the Duchess, but she wasn’t going to sit around the homestead and wait. Randall wasn’t here so she had to go. In spite of her silent decision to remain calm, tears began to brim in her eyes. ‘I don’t care. There’s no way I’m sitting here and waiting for someone to find her. Nora,’ she looked at Jim’s wife, ‘you might find her before we do, but if not…’ She didn’t finish the sentence. Instead she waved a hand at the men. ‘Come on, let’s get moving.’

As the men went out, their footsteps tramping about on the timber floors, suddenly Amy felt weak. She grasped the back of a chair for support. Nora tried, unsuccessfully, to get her to sit down.

‘I’m going to change into something suitable for riding while you, Jim and Mike check the house.’ Amy stopped in the kitchen doorway to turn back to Nora, and ask, ‘Did you check the truck and the tractor? Kate loves to get behind the wheel and pretend to drive them.’

‘I did. But I’ll check them again.’ Nora moved towards Amy and put her hand on Amy’s arm. ‘You’re not to worry, dear, it won’t be good for you or the baby. If Tinga’s with her, and I suspect he is, he’ll keep her safe.’

‘Oh, Nora, I hope so.’ Amy took a handkerchief out of the cuff of her dress and dabbed at her eyes as she turned to walk down the hall. ‘If anything’s happened to her…’