Morgan's Law (32 page)

The sound of heavy boots coming through the back door was followed moments later by a dark head poking around the corner of the courtyard.

‘Adam?' Sarah sat up straighter in her chair and gave a small grimace of pain as the movement stretched her cuts and scratches.

‘I just heard what happened. Are you okay?'

‘How on earth did
you
hear about it?'

‘Are you hurt?' He crouched down in front of her and ran his gaze over her searchingly.

‘I'm fine. It all happened so fast, I barely had time to work out what was going on.'

‘Bloody Morgan. If I get my hands on him . . .'

Sarah shook her head. ‘No, I think he was genuinely trying to help me.'

‘Help
himself
more like it.'

‘I don't think so. Not this time.'

‘Well, I'm sure we'll find out more tomorrow. I'm going up to bed—you two should do the same,' Tash added, meeting Sarah's frown with a smug little smile as she left the courtyard.

For a moment they listened to Tash's footsteps as she headed upstairs, then Adam eased himself into the seat Tash had vacated.

‘You'll be happy to know I've decided to take your advice and leave things alone,' Sarah told him.

Adam gave her a measured look, almost as though he were trying to see inside her mind. ‘What brought on the change of heart?' he finally asked.

Sarah shrugged. She didn't want to rehash the conversation with Albert and Ruth. In fact, she wanted to put it all behind her and finish what she had come here to do. She had enough answers now; she still didn't know who had killed Bluey Jenkins, but knowing now what kind of man he really was, she could honestly say she didn't particularly care, grandfather or not.

‘If it's all right, could I borrow a vehicle tomorrow? I'm taking Gran back to the tree.'

For a minute Adam didn't say anything, and she could see the play of emotions as they crossed his face. ‘No worries,' he said eventually. ‘If that's what you want to do. I'll pick you up and take you out there.'

‘No, I can't ask you to take any more time off to chauffeur me around. I can find my way back to the tree.'

‘I'll take you.' His tone didn't leave any room for argument and Sarah was too exhausted to bother. Getting to her feet, she placed a hand on his shoulder and summoned up a smile. ‘Thank you.'

Sliding one of his large hands over hers, he stood up and she had to tilt her head back to see him properly. ‘I've missed you, Sare.'

‘I've missed you too,' she told him, and it was the truth.

‘How about tomorrow night you let me cook you dinner? You'll need something to take your mind off it all.' His hand gently cupped the back of her neck and the gesture brought tears to her eyes. Such big, work-toughened hands, yet capable of such tenderness.

‘I won't be here tomorrow night, Adam. I'm leaving as soon as I take Gran out to the tree.' Watching his face as her words registered, she steeled herself against the urge to take them back. ‘I had a call from work. They need me back there.'

‘I see.' His hand slipped from her neck and he took a small step away from her.

‘I really couldn't say no. I've been away so much longer than I originally planned to.' She hadn't expected her heart to ache like this, and Adam's intense stillness and silence was only making her feel more wretched. ‘I understand if you'd rather not drive me out to the tree tomorr—'

‘I said I'll take you,' he said, cutting her off roughly.

She bit the corner of her lip to stop from bursting into tears and gave a jerky nod.

‘Damn it, Sarah,' he growled. Reluctantly, she lifted her gaze to meet his, and saw angry betrayal glaring back at her. ‘You're making a big mistake. You don't belong over there.'

‘I don't belong here either! This is not who I am.'

‘Then who are you? Because I reckon you haven't been the person you were trying to be for a long time. That's why you came out here. You were trying to find the
real
you again.'

‘Well, I didn't find her,' Sarah said, her voice thick with tears. ‘All I found were more complications.'

‘So that's what I am to you? A complication?' He shook his head in disgust. ‘I'm glad I could provide you with a little distraction. You can go back home to all your snobby friends in London and tell them you had a fling with a real live country hick—got back to ya roots and roughed it for a while. That should provide you with a few chuckles over high tea.'

‘Adam, it's not like that,' she sighed miserably.

‘It's exactly like that. Go and get some sleep. Call me when you're ready tomorrow morning and I'll come and get you.'

She listened to the heavy thump of boots as they strode through the pub and fought the sting of tears.

Sarah pushed her bacon and eggs around on the plate the next morning at breakfast, putting off what she knew she had to do today. She looked up as someone came to a stop at her table—surprised when she found Bruce holding out a set of keys.

‘You're good to go.'

After following the gruff mechanic back to the garage and fixing up her account, Sarah smothered a sigh as Bruce felt it necessary to give a few vital instructions on how to care for her car. It was hard to concentrate when her mind kept drifting to the task ahead. It was all so . . . final. So much had changed since that first day she'd arrived in Negallan, hot, tired and cranky. Back then she couldn't wait to get the job done and get the hell out of town. Now she was faced with the knowledge there was nothing left to keep her here, she wasn't sure she was going to be strong enough to leave.

As she pulled up out the front of his house later that morning Adam came out onto the verandah and watched her through hooded eyes. ‘I thought I was going to come and pick you up,' he said as she walked towards him.

‘Bruce got my car fixed quicker than he thought. No point making you come all the way into town for no reason.'

Adam barely spoke to her they took his ute over the rough terrain that led to the creek, whether it was because she'd ignored his offer to come and pick her up or not, she didn't ask. She wasn't up to another round of pointless debate over her decision to leave just now.

As the ute pulled to a stop near the creek, Adam made to get out of the vehicle, but she reached out a hand and placed it on his arm. ‘I need to do this alone.' She held his gaze determinedly; she knew he wanted to be there for her, but she couldn't handle the added emotional burden. Already there was so much hurt and anger between them. She wanted to concentrate on her gran for a moment and she couldn't do that with Adam close by.

Slowly she pushed open her door and took a long slow breath before climbing down from the ute. She reached up to take the small urn from Adam, who handed it across to her solemnly. For the briefest of moments she caught his eye and felt her resolve quiver.

Making her way down the incline, she found herself at the base of the tree all too soon. For a minute she stood and closed her eyes. The sound of the gentle wind in the treetops and the river flowing beside her eased some of the tension she'd been carrying.

Are you sure you want this, Gran?
She waited, hoping for some kind of reply, but instead her eyes began to sting with tears. This was so final. This was what she had come out here to do, and she knew that once it was done, she would have to let her gran go.

She'd come out here using her gran's last wish as an excuse to run away from her life for a while, and now she was running away again. She had thought this would release her from the painful regret she felt inside, but it hadn't. If anything, finding out more about Rose and her past had only reminded her of how little effort she had made to get to know her grandmother as an adult.

She placed a hand on the smooth, solid trunk of the tree and lowered her head to rest against it. A sob caught her unaware and for once she gave in to it, allowing her grief and heartache to overflow. This place, so gentle and calm, seemed to give her comfort and she no longer felt as though she needed to be strong.

After a while she straightened, and wiped her eyes. Lifting the lid off the urn, she reached inside and removed the smaller box that contained the ashes. She put the urn down by her feet, then broke the seal on the box and closed her eyes. Her hand shook slightly as she cast out the ashes, releasing them and opening her eyes in time to watch the breeze lift them in a dancing swirl before they floated gently down to rest among the landscape, mixing with the very earth that had once been under Rose's feet at a time when all she'd known was love and dreams and happiness.

For a long time Sarah stood still, savouring the comfort this place gave her as she wept the tears she'd denied herself for far too long.

When she'd finished, she felt drained but at the same time lighter. She'd done what her gran had asked and now Rose was finally at peace.

She wrapped her arms about the great, smooth trunk of the tree and said one final goodbye. Then she knelt by the river and scooped the cool water into her hands and onto her face, washing away the last of her tears.

As she collected the urn from the base of the tree, she gave the place one last glance, committing it all to memory; then, without looking back, she headed up the incline.

As she approached the ute, she kept her gaze lowered. One look at Adam and she knew she'd never be strong enough to do what she had to do.

Inside the cabin the air felt as fragile as spun glass. Sarah felt too emotionally wrung out to attempt any type of reconciliation with Adam in hopes of parting on better terms. She couldn't do it again, not now. She couldn't bear another argument.

At the house, William was waiting on the verandah dressed in a suit, a small bunch of flowers resting across his lap.

‘I promised to take him to the tree once you were done,' Adam explained. ‘He wanted to say goodbye.'

Sarah could only manage a nod as she blinked away another wave of tears. It seemed that once she'd opened the floodgates it was almost impossible to close them again.

‘I'll come into town as soon as I get him home again, okay?'

She shook her head. ‘No. You stay with him—he needs you.'

‘And you don't, right?'

Sarah stared miserably at the urn in her hands. She couldn't answer him, not when she couldn't even explain it to herself.

‘Okay, Sarah, you go and take care of yourself like you always do and I'll see you when I see you.'

She knew he was hurting. She hated that she was the cause of it, but she pushed open her door and climbed out of the ute silently.

‘Sarah.'

Her hand was on the door handle and she paused, lifting her gaze. His eyes were hidden in the shadow beneath the brim of his hat, but she could feel their intensity.

‘Stay.'

Her heart squeezed painfully. ‘And do what?'

‘Anything you want.'

‘I don't belong here, Adam.'

‘This town is part of you. You can't just walk away from that.'

Sarah shook her head. ‘No. It was part of Rose and she's gone.'

‘I know you don't want to leave.'

He was right, she didn't, and that knowledge scared her more than anything because it was not the logical, practical side of her, it was the impulsive stranger who had decided to leave work and come to the middle of nowhere to search for a bloody tree. The old Sarah may not have been perfect, and her life might have been full of superficial, unimportant things, but at least she'd had a realistic take on life—a job and a purpose. Out here,
who
was she?
What
was she?

‘What I want and what I have to do are two different things,' she said. ‘You better than anyone should be able to relate to that. You have responsibilities to this place and to your family. So do I.'

‘Yeah, but the difference is, Sarah, you get to choose.'

She drew back at his comment, surprised by the truth in it. She could choose. But what if she made the wrong choice? What if she gave up everything she'd worked for all her life then found out it was the wrong choice?

What if it was the
right
choice
? a small voice added.

‘Your pop is waiting,' she said quietly. ‘Thank you for taking me out there today . . . and for all your help. I couldn't have done it without you.'

He didn't acknowledge her thanks, just continued to stare at her, as though willing her to stay.

Thirty

The cold wind seemed to go straight through her as she ran for the taxi and climbed inside. It was almost Christmas and there were decorations going up everywhere. Usually Sarah loved this time of year in London, but the day was grey and bleak and she struggled to shake off the gloom that had been hanging over her ever since she said goodbye to Negallan.

Shouldering open the big glass door with the elegant sign
Brandl & McBride
, Sarah was stopped at the reception desk by a young woman she'd never seen before.