The Girl in the Hard Hat (25 page)

‘It’s a sacred Aboriginal site. Some people say this is Australia’s Stonehenge,’ Gavin told her.

As she walked from the car towards the rocky hills, she could see wallabies jumping up jagged stones that she would find difficult to climb. These marsupials pounced in little packs like miniature kangaroos dyed a mousy brown.

‘Come on,’ Gavin urged, taking her hand. ‘Let’s go for a walk.’ She didn’t resist as he pulled her away from the shore and down a small valley between two hills. It looked like they were walking on a dry creek bed. The rocks were polished and smooth and the sand between them fine.

‘Look at the rocks.’

Gavin directed her attention to the slopes either side of them and she finally realised what artwork he had been wanting to show her. The red rocks were covered in hundreds of chalklike markings. So many Aboriginal petroglyphs telling a history of their very own. Etchings of lizards, kangaroos and snakes. Pictures of feet and hands, both human and animal. Then there were images of Aborigines with spears, some presented individually, some in groups. They walked further up the dry creek and the stories and memories continued in images upon the rocks.

‘It’s beautiful.’ She was completely in awe.

A wry smile turned up his mouth as he watched her. ‘I thought you might like it.’

She turned in a full circle, her eyes following the movement of the artwork. ‘You come here often?’

‘Whenever I need peace.’

Understanding dawned. ‘And you thought that’s what I needed today?’

He shrugged. ‘Yeah.’

Today she had gone back in time twice. Firstly at Cossack when she’d re-walked the first steps of the first foreign settlers. And now here, amongst this rich archaeological collection of rock art, where the natives had created their own visual record of times almost forgotten.

She hadn’t discovered her own history but she had discovered something else.

Life went on.

With or without her.

She could hide. Or she could be part of it and let go of a past that didn’t want her anyway. Her gaze returned to Gavin. He had given her something she didn’t think was possible. She walked towards him. He stood perfectly still, watching her through half-closed lids. Without a thought. Without a smidgen of caution. Just pure instinct. She pushed her palms up his chest, over his shoulders and joined them behind his neck. Her body swayed into his – every curve fitting itself into his hard planes, like two cogs locking together.

‘Thank you,’ she said as she closed her eyes and sealed her mouth to his.

Gavin did not think.

He merely responded.

This kiss was utterly different from the one he had so shamelessly stolen. Not a prompting of lust. Or the act of a man in desperate need of a distraction in his life. This was a woman, pouring every ounce of her soul into the action.

She wasn’t holding back. He could feel her trust and tenderness wrap around him as surely as her arms did. She wasn’t scared. She wasn’t worried. Her body arched into his, lengthening their contact from chest to thigh.

God forgive me.

He was powerless to resist so honest a gift, even though more than a week ago he had vowed to hold her at arm’s length.

Arm’s length be damned!

He drew her closer. Their mouths tumbled over each other in desperation to give and take. He pushed the tips of his fingers into her hairline as he grabbed hold of her face to steady their feverish desire, gentling the caress till his heart and body ached with need.

I can’t do this.

He pulled away, still holding her face, watching her eyes slowly open, like the sun rising on the dawn of a new day.

‘What is it?’ she whispered, her mouth turned up slightly into that sweet, shy smile. ‘Did I do something wrong?’

His voice was a husky rasp. ‘No.’

The problem was that she was way too
right
. Too perfect in every way. He’d been mad to think that he could just have a fling with this woman and then move on unscathed and unscarred.

Wendy wasn’t your walk-in-the-park relationship. She was a keeper and he knew that if he put even one foot in that direction he’d be lost. That’s why he had to let her go. It was, ironically, for her own safety.

Had she but known it.

He released her, and surprise mixed with hurt glimmered in her eyes. It killed him slowly as he disentangled his body from hers. And with that damned cocky mask he liked to hide behind back in place, he took her hand and raised the back of her palm to his lips. ‘Come on, we should get that battery of yours.’

Before she could respond, he was leading her back over the rocks, past the Aboriginal figures that had once given him comfort, but now seemed to jump out at him like accusing pixies. They cleared the dried-up river and the beach and arrived back at the car.

‘Gavin, not so fast.’ Wendy’s voice was breathless behind him.

His feet slowed but he didn’t turn around to look at what would no doubt be her panting and flushed countenance. He was in full retreat mode. He had to get this done.

Come on! It was just one little kiss. Get a grip.

Opening the door to his ute, he released her hand. ‘Get in.’

She glared at him but complied as he walked around the vehicle to his own seat. Once he was in, however, she immediately opened the conversation. For the first time that day he wished he wasn’t sitting with the woman of his dreams in the middle of nowhere.

‘You said I didn’t do anything wrong.’

‘You didn’t.’ He started the engine.

Her voice was small. ‘Am I that bad a kisser?’

His foot jerked uncontrollably on the pedal as the car took off in a cloud of dust.

‘No.’

‘For goodness’ sake, Gavin, talk to me. You’re freaking me out here.’

‘I just don’t think,’ he said slowly, ‘as colleagues . . . that it would be a good idea for us to get together.’

Although he didn’t look at her, he could sense she was gaping at him.

‘
This
from the man who’s been flirting with me since I arrived in town? I don’t get you. What’s changed?’

Fuckin’ everything.
He coughed and then found refuge in his usual defence. ‘I’m just sensing that you don’t get the rules.’

‘What rules?’ Her voice was a vulnerable caress that was almost his undoing.

‘What do you want, Wendy? Do you want to have sex?’ The words grated on his tongue but he pushed them out, cruel words that she had to hear. ‘A few good tumbles in my donga or yours till I get bored of your body and we resort to avoiding each other on the job?’

‘
What?
’

‘’Cause you know I don’t do commitment. And I certainly don’t do relationships.’

‘I know . . . I just –’

‘What?’ He gripped the steering wheel, in his head begging her, practically screaming for her not to say it.

‘I just thought maybe,’ she struggled and then swallowed, ‘things were different now.’

‘Why would they be?’ he demanded, challenging her to lay her feelings bare. Tell him that he was mad. That there was something there between them that he couldn’t deny. More than a fumble in the dark. Not a one-night stand or a meaningless fling but something real and tangible and so special that even thinking about it made his skin tingle.

Don’t rise to the bait, Wendy.

To his relief, she turned her face to the window so he couldn’t see it. ‘Never mind.’

Good girl.

If there was one thing he could count on with Wendy, it was her self-respect.

His fingers tightened on the wheel. He should be relieved, satisfied that she was safe. Yet all he felt was anger and disappointment in himself.

There were things in life he could never have. And now she was one of them. He gritted his teeth till his jaw ached.

At Dampier, he waited in the car while she got out and bought her own battery. He figured she needed the space. He was sure that if it were physically possible to get home before dark, she would have got out and walked. Thank goodness for small mercies.

Her eyes seemed a little red on her return, but the glare she gave him was as vibrant and as feisty as ever. She wasn’t going to roll over and play dead.

It tore a smile from him. ‘Man! You’re beautiful when you’re angry.’

‘Wow!’ She slammed her passenger door shut. ‘That’s an original one.’

‘Come on, Sarge –’

‘
Shut up, Gavin
. Just drive!’

They completed the rest of the journey to her car at Cossack in stony silence. When they arrived he got out and installed the battery for her. She watched him with a cold and critical eye, making him feel like the snail in her lettuce patch. Then when he finished the job, she whipped out her purse and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, which she must have withdrawn from an ATM in Dampier. She presented it to him.

‘Wendy.’ He held up his hands in protest. This was too much. He wasn’t going to let her pay him.

‘Take it,’ she rasped, jiggling it at him.

‘No.’

‘I said take it!’ she choked desperately. ‘I don’t want to owe you anything.’

‘You don’t owe me anything.’

‘I owe you this.’ She shoved the note into his shirt pocket. And despite the emotional turmoil between them, the brief slide of her fingers against his chest was enough to render him speechless long enough for her to get away.

‘
Wendy!
’ he called as she strode away, blonde hair whipping behind her.

She neither turned nor acknowledged his existence as she got into her car and drove off, leaving him to watch her cloud of dust.

Feeling like a right arse, he returned to his ute and got in. Ripping the note from his pocket, he looked at it. What the hell was he going to do with it? Spending it was out of the question. He shoved it in the coin compartment of the car and started the engine. He also turned his phone back on. It buzzed almost instantly.

There was another message from Janet.

She was probably wondering why he hadn’t responded before. He pulled out his phone and opened the text.
Urgent! Please be available to speak tonight at 7.30pm. Confirm.

He typed in
Confirm
and sent the message.

It would be more news regarding Peter Marshall, no doubt. Surprisingly, the mere thought of his nemesis no longer made his adrenaline pump. Even seeing the druglord on the news no longer gave him the urge to switch off the television and heave. It was this man who had made his life hell, and was continuing to do so. But he wasn’t afraid of him any more. In fact, he hoped Peter Marshall would find him someday. He’d love to have a face to face and an excuse to smack the living daylights out of the son of a bitch. All this sneaking around had given him a taste for an open match.

He had been in witness protection for five years now. Every year grew harder and harder. He longed to return home or just to visit his family, who had also moved cities when this whole debacle occurred. But he didn’t dare put their lives at risk too.

Instead, he tried to focus on his men. They were his surrogate family. His sole responsibility. If he could just stay honest to them and to this job, he was safe. The people he loved were safe.

He couldn’t afford to bring Wendy into his life.

Getting close to anyone was too dangerous.

As long as he was in this program, attachments to people and places were always temporary. He took a job, did the work and moved on. And that’s what he had to keep doing again and again and again.

He backed his ute out of the car bay and sped out of Cossack.

The problem was, he couldn’t see an end date in sight. When would Peter Marshall give up? When would that man stop hunting him?

Certainly not now. Marshall’s brother Eddie had been murdered in jail. If the guy had wanted revenge before, he’d be spitting for it now.

As Gavin drove into the camp car park, he tried to put Peter Marshall out of his mind. He still had a few hours to kill before he had to deal with that phone call. It would be better if he didn’t dwell on what Janet may or may not say.

He did his laundry, read a magazine, took a jog, then had a shower and his dinner. In between he spoke to a few of the guys and allowed himself to feel normal. Then, at seven-twenty-five pm, he returned to his donga to receive what he hoped was good news.

It wasn’t.

‘We re-located Peter when he attended his brother’s funeral with the rest of their family in Darlinghurst,’ Janet reported. ‘He’s been plotting, Gavin. Not just revenge for his brother but for a number of friends and family who have been killed in this year’s gang war.’

‘How many deaths have there been?’

‘Four we know of. He’s not happy. I’d say he’s also a target himself, which is why he went underground for a week.’

‘But he’s visible now.’

‘He’s not just visible.’ Janet coughed. ‘I’m afraid that’s the bad news. He’s booked a flight to Perth. We’re not one hundred per cent sure but we think he’s looking for you.’

‘But if he’s taken that many losses . . .’ Gavin began.

‘None as important as his brother. He still blames you for having put Eddie in jail in the first place.’

Gavin clutched the phone tightly. ‘So he’s looking for me again . . . in earnest.’