Riverboat Point (29 page)

“I was in a car accident once,” she said. “I was asleep in the back seat so I don't know what happened. They told me there was a bike involved. Evidently there wasn't much of the rider left to identify.”

He kept his eyes focused on hers. She could see there was no longer any laughter there.

“That must have been a terrible time,” he said. “Accidents happen but I do my best to take care of myself. I value life too much to throw it away that easily.”

They stood a metre apart, the boards on trestles between them. The bright sunny day had receded.

Damn, Savannah thought. Why had she blabbed about the accident?

“How will these signs stand up?” she asked. It was best to keep the conversation away from personal stuff.

“I've got two stakes. I'll nail them to the back of the signs and we can knock them into the ground.”

He started painting again. She did the same. The scraping of their brushes and Jasper's soft snores were the only sounds in the shed. The conversation had dried up. Trust her to take the shine out of the day.

“You need to take more care with your paint, Ms Smith.”

Savannah frowned as he reached across and dabbed some white paint on the letter she was working on. She looked up. The sparkle was back in his eyes.

“Is that so, Mr Daly?” She raised her eyebrows at his roughly painted letters and dabbed several spots. “People in glass houses shouldn't splash paint.”

“Why not?”

She opened her mouth in horror as he dabbed some on her cheek.

“That matches the other one now.”

She lifted her brush but he jumped away. She pranced around the trestles, her brush raised in the air.

Ethan put up his hands, the paintbrush still clutched in the fingers of one.

“No, not the paint treatment,” he yelped.

Jasper leapt between them and turned to face Savannah. He gave a low growl.

She stood still and lowered her brush.

“Easy mate,” Ethan said and ruffled the dog's ears. “We're only playing.”

Savannah kept her eyes on the dog. Her heart thumped in her chest.

“It's okay, Sav. Relax.” Ethan's voice was gentle. “Say sorry, Jasper. You've frightened the lady.”

“It's not his fault.” Savannah's voice came out in a croak.

“I'll take him home for a while.” Ethan gave the dog a pat. “Come, Jasper.”

They left the shed. Savannah's shoulders relaxed. Damn it, she'd done it again. Each time she started to relax with Ethan she did something to upset the balance. She returned to her sign, determined to finish the painting. Once Ethan nailed on the posts she was sure she could knock them into the ground herself. He could do his own thing until later, when the boats went out.

“He's happy with a bone.”

Savannah glanced at Ethan as he took up his brush.

“I'm sorry, Sav. I get that you're nervous of dogs. I shouldn't have brought him with me.”

“I understand he's your friend. You've every right to bring him here.” Savannah shrugged. “I don't even know why I'm scared of dogs. We never had one growing up.”

“Jasper should have been protecting you. I was the one who attacked you with the paintbrush.”

Ethan's head was bent over the sign. Savannah dabbed a bit of paint on his ear.

“He's not here to protect you now,” she said.

Ethan moved like lightning. Before she could react he had trapped her hands in one of his. In the other he held the paintbrush above her nose.

“Ethan, no,” she squealed.

“No noise or Jasper will be here in a flash.” His lips curled in a grin.

“Are you trying to scare me?”

“No.” His eyes darkened and he bent towards her. “I'm planning to kiss you.”

Tingles went down her spine. His lips reached hers. They were warm, soft, insistent.

His arms wrapped around her and pulled her to him. The brush slid from her fingers. She melted against him and reached her arms up around his neck. She was lost. All her thoughts of being strong vanished. His hands roamed down her back, cupped her buttocks and pressed her to him leaving her in no doubt about his need for her.

His lips were all over her face and her neck, his hands were roaming. She closed her eyes and tipped back her head. The weight of him pushed her backwards. The trestle behind her moved and she fell, taking Ethan with her.

Savannah shrieked as her bottom hit the concrete with a thud and a sharp pain shot down her leg. Ethan had put his hand out and rolled away from her but he'd connected with the paint pot which fell and tipped white paint down her arm.

“Sav.”

He was by her side, his face full of concern. He tried to pull her close. She tried to push him away. She was covered in paint, no need for both of them to be.

“Let me help,” he said.

She pushed her clean hand to his chest. “I've got paint all over me.”

“Where are you hurt?”

“I'm not.”

He scooped her up. She sucked in a breath as the pain jarred again. He held her close. She closed her eyes and inhaled his delicious male scent.

“What shall I do?”

Just hold me, she thought. She opened her eyes. He was staring at her in alarm.

“I'll be all right.” She looked over his shoulder at the mess on the floor. “Which is more than can be said for our signs.”

Paint had splattered across them spoiling some of the letters. Ethan lowered her carefully to the floor.

“I can fix them,” he said. “It's you I'm worried about.”

“My left leg isn't as strong as it used to be. It was mangled in the car crash. It doesn't manage tricky situations very well. It's taken a lot of work to be able to walk and run properly again, and sometimes it catches me out. Falls or sudden movement can cause pain.”

“I thought I'd broken you.”

“It'd take more than that to break me, soldier.” She twisted her lips in a smile. There was no need to focus on her injuries.

“Is that so?”

Savannah held up her paint-covered hand.

“I'd better go and get cleaned up or I might stay like this.”

“I'd love to come and help you,” he said, “but if I don't clean up these signs they'll be no use.”

She went to move away but he grabbed her clean hand and leaned in. His lips brushed hers.

“You keep running out on me.”

He nuzzled her ear.

“Next time you won't escape,” he murmured.

She shivered. If it wasn't for the paint setting on her skin she wouldn't be going anywhere. She took his chin in her hand and turned his face to hers.

“Careful what you wish for,” she said.

She planted a kiss on his lips then strode away, as well as she could on her aching leg. At the doorway she stopped and looked back. He was watching her. Just as she turned he winked. She forced her body to keep moving in the direction of the shack. She needed a cold shower.

Ethan managed to save the painted letters on the signs. Most of them had evaded the splashes of paint. He would outline the letters with a thick black texta once they'd dried. The signs would do until they could get the replacements for the signposts. He nailed the stakes to the back and stood them outside in the sun to dry. Back inside the shed, he did his best to clean up.

By the time he'd finished he was ready to eat again. He was surprised it was nearly midday. Savannah was expecting the next lot of customers mid-afternoon and he had to fit in a visit to Gnasher before then.

Outside the sunshine had vanished under grey clouds. He made his way to Savannah's back door. She called him inside before he could knock.

Her hair was still wet from her shower and she was in a snug-fitting t-shirt and trackpants. Not all the paint had come off, but not from want of trying by the look of her glowing skin.

“I've made sandwiches,” she said. “I'd like to put those signs out before the next lot of customers get lost and complain.”

He would love to take her in his arms and resume where they'd left off but she was right. There were jobs that had to be done. “How about we take the food with us and eat on the way?” he said. “I've got a couple of things I have to attend to before they get here.”

Once more she drove him in her car. The sign on Jaxon's gate was clear enough. They planned to put one of the homemade signs at the T-junction and one at the turn-off from the main highway.

“Did you see that?” Savannah slowed the car to a crawl. “There's a horse in the Palmers' property.”

He followed her pointing finger. In amongst some sparse trees was a bay-coloured horse.

“I didn't know they had a horse,” Savannah said.

“It's not much of a horse from the look of it. Skin and bone.”

“Why would they bring a horse out here?”

“Too big for their backyard in the city,” he quipped.

Savannah raised her eyebrows at him and drove on.

It didn't take much effort to hammer in the signs. They'd had some good winter rain for a change and the soil was still soft enough to drive a stake into. Savannah was happy with the results. She gave him a quick hug after the second sign went in. It was risky. The chemistry between them was explosive. A sudden shower of rain sent them back to the car. Savannah drove them home.

“Can't see the horse now,” she said.

“It's a big property. It could be anywhere in there.”

“It would have cost a bit.”

“The horse?”

“No, the property. All that river frontage. I know what Jaxon paid for his place and it's much smaller.”

Ethan thought of his own property. He'd purchased it around the same time as Jaxon bought his.

“I think they've owned it for a long time,” he said. “Could be there are parents involved in the ownership. I've never seen anyone there until now. There have been the odd signs that someone's about but nothing more. They've always kept to themselves and that suited me.”

“Belinda said they helped Jaxon with the houseboats in the early days.”

“They may have. I'm not always around.”

Gnasher's gate was up ahead.

“Drop me here,” Ethan said. “I'm going to check on Gnasher.”

Savannah slowed the car to a stop.

“I'll be back by three,” he said.

She raised her eyebrows at him again.

“Truly, I will,” he said with a grin and shut the door. He could understand her scepticism. He'd been late for the first houseboat he'd had to take out and last night he'd missed her dinner altogether.

Gnasher's gate was padlocked. As usual Ethan climbed over and set off along the track. He pulled his hood over his head and hunched his shoulders against another light shower of rain. Right now he was more concerned about how to broach the subject of guns with Gnasher.

“Incoming,” Ethan called as he approached Gnasher's shed. The rain had masked the sound of his footsteps but he was never sure if Gnasher would be in hiding having heard his approach. It was a game the old bloke liked to play from time to time.

Ethan heard a noise. He paused. It was the sound of snoring. Gnasher had rolled down the tarpaulin at the end of his shed where he kept his car. That was the direction the snoring was coming from. Ethan stepped around the tarp and stopped. In front of the car was the framework of a wall. That hadn't been there when he'd called in last. Through it he could see Gnasher's new TV. It was off. Gnasher was stretched out on the couch, surrounded by a sea of tinnies. He'd been on a bender.

Ethan went to the kitchen area. Gnasher's fridge was well stocked. He must have had a grocery delivery. Ethan took out bacon and eggs and set about cooking them. He was just serving them up when he heard Gnasher clamber to his feet, the tinnies clattering around him.

Ethan glanced over. Gnasher did a huge stretch, let out a long fart and scratched at his chest. Then he made his way to the kitchen.

“Morning, Dig,” he said and sat at his table. “Good of you to cook me breakfast.”

“It's afternoon,” Ethan said. He put a plate piled high with thick toast, bacon, eggs and mushrooms in front of Gnasher. “This is lunch.”

“Good on ya.” Gnasher took a bite of toast. “You joining me?”

Ethan put his plate with one egg, a piece of bacon and toast on the table.

“I've eaten but there's always room for more.”

“Met that neighbour of yours yesterday.”

“Savannah?”

“She's a good-looker.”

“She said she'd seen you.”

“Nearly caught me in all my glory.” Gnasher cackled. “I was coming out of your bathroom. Lucky I had my shorts on or she'd have got a real eye full.”

Ethan smiled. He could understand why Savannah had seemed a little flustered by her meeting with Gnasher.

“That was in the afternoon?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Gnasher said. “I came back here fresh as a daisy. I was gonna settle back, watch the footy …”

He got a faraway look in his eye. For a moment he stared into the distance then he shook his head and shovelled in a forkful of egg and bacon. Ethan watched him chew then swallow.

“So you were here all night watching footy?”

“No.”

Ethan waited. Surely Gnasher hadn't been drinking and using his gun. He knew better than that. But if he was on a bender who could be sure? Perhaps he had been the one to fire the shot. That's if a gunshot was what they'd all heard.

“I was here all night.” Gnasher dropped his knife and fork to the plate with a clatter. “But not watching that bloody idiot of a machine.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “The rubbish they have on it. I turned it off, put on my music and had a few quiet beers.” He nodded his head as a full stop.

“I thought you'd enjoy the footy.” Ethan took a sip of his coffee.

“I would if they'd let me.” Gnasher resumed eating.