Shadows

 

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Chapter 2

She woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache.  The first day of her new employment.  The memory of her meeting with her employer made her cringe and she covered her head with the big, fluffy doona, wishing that she had other options.  She heard the door click and realised it had been opened as the sounds from the kitchen became audible.  She lowered the doona. They stood in the doorway, the little boy of four and his little sister of three.  The children. 

With curious eyes and uncertainty sketched across their faces, they stared at her.

   “Hello,” she managed to get out in a welcoming voice.  “Is it time to get up already?”

  “It is 7 o’clock,” said the little boy and Lara saw the father in the boy’s abrupt manner and direct dark look. 

  “Oh my, then it is time to be up,” she said smiling and pushing the covers down.

   “How about you two sitting here on my bed, while I get ready?”  She helped little Jessie up on the bed and Jonah pulled himself up the foot end with great ease. 

  “I have brought some beautiful books with me, here is one for each of you.  Have a look at the pictures and later on, I will read you the stories.”

  “I can read it myself,” said Jonah with confidence.

  “Really?  That is wonderful, then you can read the story to us!”  Lara said smiling as the little boy shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

  “Yes, maybe I will.”

Lara looked at Jessie who had not said a word.  She had light brown hair and beautiful blue eyes that appeared to reflect the summer skies, but her expression was neutral as if she had no definite feelings about anything.  Lara felt a deep sadness for a little girl that appeared to be present but wasn’t. 

  “What do you think about a picnic, Jessie?  Do you think we should have a lovely picnic on my first day here?” The little girl held her eyes for a moment, then she nodded. 

  “That means that she would like it,” said Jonah as he paged through his book.

  “That’s settled then, let’s get ready!” 

****

They had their picnic down at the river.  It was a beautiful grassy spot where the river created a pool of fresh still water, perfect for a summer’s day swim.  They ate, read books and played at the shallow end of the pool.  She showed the children how to make stars and horses and carts out of the riverbank clay and the hours disappeared unnoticed. 

Dark, blazing eyes watched them closely from behind the shrubs on the riverbank.  His breathing was laboured, little sounds escaping from his snarling lips from time to time.  He pressed his body close to the ground and parted the vegetation just enough to have an uninterrupted view of the woman and the two children.  He was growing impatient in his eagerness to possess.  He was sweating profusely, it was hot and his anticipation overheated his body. He saw the little girl stay back as the other two went down to the water again.  She was lying on the blanket, exhausted from their fun day.  His eyes began to glow as he figured out the quickest route to his reward.  And he needed his reward. Oh God, how he needed his reward.  Being such a good boy and all.  Sounds behind him!  He shrank back into the shrubs and was motionless as the man passed a few metres away from him.

David Rockford stood on the riverbank next to his little sleeping girl.  He noticed the smeared face and the tightly wound curls dried with dirt and river water.  Her little hands folded together and tucked in under her cheek as she slept peacefully.  He felt his chest narrowing, his heart was trapped in its cage and his breath stuck in his throat.  In anger, he turned from his daughter and focused his wrath on the young woman splashing in the shallow water with his son.  She looked carefree and this angered him more.

  “Miss Richards, what do you think you are doing!” he thundered.  Jessie sat up instantly and recognising her father, she lifted her arms to be picked up.  With the child firmly gripped in his arms, he took a few steps to the water’s edge.

  “Miss Richards, what is the meaning of this?  I was under the impression that you are a capable and responsible child carer and yet, here you are in the mid-day heat, next to a river and miles away from home with two vulnerable children!’  His voice became very low as he spat the words out like drops of poison.    “Have you no sense at all?  I assumed the agency would screen child carers to see if they are of sound mind, and yet, here you are in the hot sun with every kind of danger lurking.  I think this might explain why you took this position, a city girl like you out in the bush.  I suspected there had to be more to it.  A half-wit, that’s what they sent me!”

Lara stared at him, unaware of her dripping hair and clinging shirt that emphasised her slender waist and full breasts.  She gulped for air, opened her mouth and started out with a response, but realising there was no sound, she closed her lips and grabbed Jonah’s hand as she marched out of the water.  She reached David and stood in front of him, meeting his eyes with her own fire and fury,   ‘excuse me, Mr Rockford, I am totally unaware of what the problem is here.’  Her words were not much more than a whisper, but every word was carefully delivered so that there was no doubt as to what was communicated. 

  “Well, that confirms my doubts.  Your position here will be terminated as soon as the agency can provide me with a competent child carer.  I have no patience with stupidity.  We will take the children home immediately and you will clean them up.  We will have to watch them closely for symptoms of sunstroke!”

She swallowed hard, she felt the blood in her head and there was murder in her eyes.  She opened her mouth to let the ignorant imbecile know that her qualifications were superior to most in childcare and that her common sense had never been questioned and would not be questioned by an incompetent father who had no idea of what a child needed, but her eye caught Jessie’s eyes staring at her from her father’s chest.  Lara lowered her eyes and took Jonah’s hand as she gathered the picnic blanket.  She marched out in front of him with Jonah struggling to keep up, but she was acutely aware of David Rockford walking comfortably with huge strides behind her.  The wetness of her shorts was causing severe discomfort, but she refused to slow down.  She needed to get away from him.

As they disappeared out of sight, he let out the growl that was suffocating him.  It was deep and primal.  He was deprived.  His reward was taken.  His brain ached. He plunged his fingernails into his chest and dragged them all the way down his corrugated skin to his navel.  The pain was sharp and satisfying. He smiled.  He pressed his bloodstained hands into the dirt. Smeared the dirt on his chest and watched the beautiful colour nuances created by blood and earth.  He smeared his face too. The smell of blood and earth aroused him.  The saliva dribbled from his mouth corners. His abdomen moved violently.  His grimy, bloody hands gripped his throbbing male hardness. Thrusting urgently, he growled, ‘soon…soon’.

***

As the sun disappeared quietly behind the mountains, little Jessie’s temperature reached alarming heights and Lara was forced to see David Rockford in his study and ask for a doctor to be called.  She felt guilty and petrified that the little might be seriously ill.  And it would be her fault.  David Rockford was right, she had no common sense, and here was the proof. 

He looked at her without expression, “Why was I not told earlier?”

   “It only started about two hours ago.  I thought she was just tired…”

    “Go back to her.  I will get the doctor,” his voice was low as he turned away from her, but she saw the fear across his face.  Her heart contracted.

She was replacing the damp towel on the little girl’s forehead when he entered and came and stood next to the bed.  The little girl opened her eyes with difficulty, “Daddy”, she whispered.

He knelt down and took her little hand in his, “Daddy’s here, darling.  The doctor is coming. We will have some good medicine soon.  Close your eyes and try to sleep.”  He stroked the wet, sweat-drenched curls away from her forehead.  She closed her eyes, but refused to let go of his hand.  Lara put the fresh, cold towel on her forehead.  Her hand briefly touched the tanned strong hand of David Rockford.  He withdrew instantly as if a leper had touched him.   Lara felt embarrassed and mumbled an apology as if she had done something wrong.  She withdrew to the far side of the room and sat in the chair at the window. 

  “You don’t need to be here now.  Go and take care of Jonah.  I will sit with Jessie.”  He voiced sounded distant.  She swallowed and left, her guilt like a rock in her chest.  Outside the door, the tears rushed down her cheeks.  She knew he hated her and that he had every right to do so.

The doctor was a young man with success at everything written all over him.  He was handsome, athletic and obviously intelligent.  His bright blue eyes were striking behind the dark rimmed glasses as he smiled at Lara, “Really, you should relax now.  Jessie does not have sunstroke or anything that you could have caused.  She is simply a little girl in need of her parents’ love and attention.  She is already much better, having her dad at her bedside.”

Lara smiled at the young man, her relief obvious, “Thank you so much, I am so relieved.  At the back of my mind I knew sunstroke was not really a possibility, we spent most of the time in the shade of the trees, still …’

   “You should not immediately assume that you are at fault.  A beautiful woman should guard against unnecessary worry, it will just ruin her looks.”  His eyes were dancing with delight as he saw her blush. 

  “Thank you, Dr Thomas.  I appreciate your prompt response to our call.  Martha will show you the way to the door.”  David Rockford’s voice was cold and militant where he stood in doorway.  It was clear that he wanted the doctor gone.  Rod Thomas nodded, smiled at Lara and followed Martha down the passage. 

  “I need to make some phone calls, can you sit with Jessie?” he asked as he brushed past her. 

She wanted to shout at him.  She wanted to throw something at his head.  There was no apology.  There was no indication of embarrassment.  He was off again into his own world, the children left to someone else. 

She sat with Jessie who was sleeping soundly. Her temperature had dropped and remained normal for a couple of hours when Lara decided to go to bed.  She placed a little kiss on the sleeping girl’s forehead. “Poor, little darling’, she thought as she pulled the doona up to cover the little arms.  The night was unexpectedly cold.

 Minutes after her departure, David Rockford entered Jessie’s room and sat down in the chair in front of the window.  He could hear his daughter’s even breathing.  He looked at the stars from the darkness of the room.  There were many of them, yet they all looked lonely. He understood that.  His shoulders were aching as if he was carrying a massive load. His lips were pressed together and his mind was numb.  Frequently, he would get up and put his hand on Jessie’s forehead.  She slept easily. The fever had passed. When the world outside the window started to light up, he got out of the chair, placed his hand on Jessie’s forehead once more.  He bent over and kissed her cheek lightly, then he disappeared down the passage to his own room at the other side of the house.

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Chapter 1

Lara stood quietly on the wide veranda, her eyes fixed on the rolling green hills that climax in majestic mountains, etched against the blue skies of African summer. The sun was sinking slowly into that unfamiliar space behind the hills and the mountains at the end of the earth.  There was peace in the fading golden light that caressed soft grass and stately trees.  Birds fluttered, chirped excitedly in treetops and mingled with the pleasant sounds of the Xhosa people gathered at their huts on the slope of the nearest hill.  Smoke spiralled slowly and lazily into the air from several gathering points as the women prepared dinner and the children screeched and played.  The end of a long workday brought time to relax, to eat… to talk.  Their melodic voices carried on the soft breeze and Lara became aware of her singleness in the midst of the chatter and chirping of those who were home amongst their loved ones.  Involuntarily she crossed her arms and forced her mind to disengage when she heard a soft, friendly voice behind her.

 

  “Madam, the master might be late.  He often is and so he wants the children to eat at six.  Will the madam be eating with them?”

 

Lara looked at the elderly Xhosa woman who ran the household effortlessly it seemed.  “I don’t really know.  I suppose I should wait to meet Mr Rockford first before I eat his food!” Somehow her witty comment did not really have the desired effect as she looked at Martha’s quiet face.

 

  “Madam, I think the master would want you to eat with the children.  He usually eats in his study by himself when he comes.  Sometimes he eats quite late, sometimes he does not eat at all…” her voiced trailed off, expecting Lara to grasp the unstated message.

 

  “You mean, he never sits down with the children for dinner?” she asked in amazement. 

 

 “No, Madam, not since the madam left,” she said quietly.

 

 “But that is so unfair on the children!  Surely they need their father now more than ever!” Her disapproval was obvious.  She saw the widening of Martha’s eyes, the frozen body and sensed the presence behind her before she heard the cold voice.

 

  “I suppose I have the pleasure of meeting the new au’paire.”

 

Lara heard the deep voice behind her and before turning around she knew this was ‘the master’.  He was standing a few metres away and made no attempt to approach her in a welcoming gesture.  His tall, lean body appeared rigid and cold as he glared down at her.  His dark eyes were fuming and there was no doubt in her mind that she had been overheard and was not appreciated.  She shrugged her shoulders. He was in the wrong.  And that was that.  She stepped forward and held out her hand,   “Mr Rockford, I assume.  I am Lara Richards, the new au’paire’. Her hazel green eyes met his dark glare squarely. 

 

He ignored her hand, placed his hands deep inside the pockets of his jacket, “Yes, I am David Rockford and you will be in my employment for the next six months.  You will do well if you focus your energy as set out in your work contract and avoid comments and interference in matters outside of that contract.” 

 

Lara dropped her hand to her side, flicked her copper brown hair back from her face with suppressed anger, “I understand that I have been employed to take care of your children. I will certainly be focussing on what is needed for their welfare.” She pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin. Her eyes locked into his and screamed silently, ‘I will do what I believe should be done’.

 

  “Then you will take your meals with the children.  I am sure Martha has already familiarised you with your room and the children’s areas.  We will not be seeing each other apart from your short meeting with me at 8 pm every night when I will expect you to inform me about any needs the children might have.” A slight nod of the head indicated that he had finished and she was dismissed.

 

She felt embarrassed, humiliated as she turned around to face Martha.  But Martha was not there and so she left him on the veranda and stepped into the hallway, out of his sight.  Tears burnt her eyes and the lump in her throat made swallowing impossible.  She hurried into her room as the tears began to flow.  

  “You brute, you absolute brute, how dare you!” she muttered.    

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Chapter 3

 

             It was Saturday morning, Lara’s first day off.  Martha collected her laundry basket and busied herself around the room as if she had something on her mind.  Lara said soothingly, “What’s wrong, Martha?”

 

           “I am sorry, Miss Lara, but I feel I must tell Miss that the Master has not always being so …so difficult.  I helped the  Madam Kate and and Old Master David to raise that boy and he was such a bright, good-natured boy. Popular with the girls too! And so smart, the old master always said he got his smarts from the Madam Kate.  She was a teacher and known all over this district as the best.  I started work here when I was only about nine.  My mother worked for the old Madam and she brought me with her to do some small chores and earn a bit of money.  When Madam Kate married into the family, she started to teach me how to read and speak English properly.  She was such a dignified woman who represented her family with pride. She spoke English beautifully because education, even for girls, was highly regarded in her family despite the strong traditional values they held in all other ways. Her ancestors came from Holland.  They were part of the first Dutch settlers to find a new home in the Cape of Good Hope in the early 1700s.  They came with dreams of finding a new home, a safe home. They believed that God had provided them with a promised land, much like the Jews in the Old Testament. They were proud, hard working people who saw God’s hand in every part of their struggle and victory in this Promised Land.  If there was one thing they did relentlessly, it was believing.  With such strong Dutch history behind her, she was certainly not the Rockfords’ chosen wife for Master David’s father.

 

His ancestors were part of the British Settlers who came to South Africa in the 1800’s.  The family had been farming this land since that time. They have always been a very prominent and respected family in these regions.  Old Master David took the farming over from his father during the Great Depression years.  Those were difficult years... for all of us.” Martha’s eyes were fixed on the blue mountains in the distance.  She paused.  A single tear coursed down the age lines on her cheek.

 

She wiped her cheek and turned to dust the dressing table, carefully lifting, dusting and placing each item back in the exact same spot.  “Yes, my Madam Kate was not the wife they wanted for old Master David.  They were hoping for a proper English girl from the motherland.  They wanted to keep the British blood pure and so ensure the lineage of well cultured, forward thinking empire builders.  My Madame Kate was not that.  Her Dutch ancestry and compassionate heart were drawbacks, weaknesses.  Between the Rockfords and Madam Kate sat shattered Empire building dreams, Anglo Boer Wars, Scorched Africa and concentration camps.

 

Despite all this, Old Master David loved his Kate dearly.  She was his refuge when the depression and the war threatened to take everything from them. Old Master David’s younger and only brother, Jonathan, went up north to stop Rommel.”  Martha’s hands grew still.  “Instead, Rommel took Jonathan from the Rockford family.  When the news came, Old Master David’s father sat down on the big leather chair at the window of the study.  And for the remainder of his life, two years, he sat there.  Until one day.  Old Master David closed his father’s eyes and they buried him in the family graveyard where the willow trees grow, near the river.  Shortly after that, Old Master David’s mother joined her husband, but not before she told my Madam Kate that she was sorry.  Sorry, for never really accepting her.  She did not ask for forgiveness.  She was British to the end.”

 

Martha sprayed the mirror and started wiping vigorously, avoiding eye contact with her own image in the mirror.  There was more there than she cared to see. “When young David was born, Old Master David and Madame Kate thought their lives were perfect.  They had recovered financially after the war years, modernised their farming practices and started to specialise in beef farming.   Master David was their only child.  He was bright and gifted.  A sportsman like no other in the district and with a string of degrees he returned to the farm to take over from his father.  Life was never better. Until young Master David fell in love with Miss Simone Jones, a city girl who struggled to fit into the farm life.”  Martha turned from the mirror. She looked straight at Lara.   “Madam Simone loved to have parties and she loved the attention she got from everyone. She was a beautiful woman and men were captivated by her.  Even after Jonah and Jessie came, she could not settle, always going here and there.  And all the time Master David became quieter. When the news came that Old Master David and my Madam Kate had died in a hellish collision on their way back from Johannesburg, Master David shut the world out completely… much like his grandfather did.  He worked and worked and that was that. So when Madam Simone disappeared one night, the children cried and longed for their mother, but Master David said nothing, just that he would get someone to look after the children.  Till this day, he has not said anything about Madam Simone, but our bright and charming boy had become a silent and introverted man.”

 

             Lara sat enthralled at the sharing of such personal family stories, but she sensed that Martha needed her to know that David was not a bad man, that circumstances had forced him to be abrupt, rude.  She admired Martha for her loyalty to this family. “I understand, Martha.  I can see how sad it all is, but I do hope that Master David can overcome this and treat others more respectfully.  He does seem to rule rather than live.”

 

            “No Miss Lara, you must listen to him.  This is a beautiful place, this Africa of ours, but like Eden, there is grave danger too.

 

             “What do you mean, Martha?’’

 

              “Nature can be hard on people, from extreme heat waves to cold, snowy winters and if you don’t take care, it can kill you.  It happens all the time.  Then there is danger from all kinds of animals.  Some say that there are still lions or big cats in the mountains and that is why some of the sheep disappear so regularly.  Even bigger than that danger is the danger of people with greedy hearts and merciless hands.  They are everywhere.  I know you are new to this country, Miss Lara, so I am trying to help.  Master David is right, there is much to be afraid of.”

 

              Martha looked around her, she appeared afraid that she would be heard by someone invisible, her voice dropped to a whisper, “Then there is Umoya Ombi.”

 

              Lara leaned closer to Martha, “What, Um… what did you say?”

 

             “Umoya Ombi, the bad spirit who makes young girls disappear.”  Her eyes were wide and the fear was almost tangible. “He comes and goes and no-one ever sees him, but seventeen girls have disappeared over the last five years.  People think he needs to drink their blood to stay alive and that is why he takes them.  We don’t know, but we keep watch.”

***

             Lara felt the cold chill down her spine long after Martha’s words.  She did not want to believe too naively, but she was new to the country and England was truly half a world away from this kind of danger.  She knew that she could trust Martha, she was a good, honest woman who would not tolerate anything that was unjust.   She felt safe with Martha around.  But this idea of a supernatural being taking girls clashed with Lara’s rationality and she struggled to find a logical explanation for it.

 

           “I must paint you!”

 

           She swung around and saw a man so perfect that he had to be a god.  His black, glossy hair reached his shoulders in a sleek curtain that framed a strong, symmetrical face.  A strong, square jawline supported the high cheekbones and straight nose perfectly.  His eyes were magnetic and beamed an invitation to throw caution to the wind and love life.  He was wearing a blue-grey shirt that matched his eyes perfectly and attempted futilely to cover his muscled shoulders and torso.  His jeans were made for his impeccable hips and well-shaped legs. He was a splendid picture of male perfection.  Lara felt her jaw drop and her eyes got stuck in their sockets while a faint voice somewhere in the back of her head called frantically, ‘get to your senses, you acting like an idiot’.  She swallowed hard and forced her gaze away while an unrecognizable voice came through her lips, “Excuse me, what did you say?”

 

              He threw his head back, his shiny hair flowing gently with the motion and he laughed the most beautiful sound she had ever heard, “I said I wanted to paint you, but now that I have seen your expression, I suppose your answer will be no!”

 

             Her brain would not function, “Yes, yes…I mean no, I don’t want to be painted,’ she ended in a whisper as her breath ran out.

 

            “Let me introduce myself, I am Jack White and I am not the village idiot, you know.  I am actually the village artist and I paint and take photographs of everything that should be preserved for eternity.  That’s why I need to paint you, gorgeous Miss…’

 

            “Richards”, she said slowly and added even slower, ‘Lara’.

 

            “Well, what a delight it is to meet you, Miss Lara Richards.  It looks like you have finished your coffee so why don’t we walk across the street to my studio and I will show you that I am equipped to paint an unforgettable portrait of you.”  He pointed to a building across the road that was signed ‘Jack’s Art Studio’.  She noticed a young couple enter the studio as she tried desperately to get her brain to function normally… it was still processing how perfectly equipped Jack White was indeed. 

 

           “Thanks, but I don’t want to be painted. I am in a hurry, actually.  I have to go.”

 

            “Oh come on, you are not in a hurry, you just want to get rid of me.  Come and check out my work and we won’t talk about painting you anymore today.”

 

             He held his hand out and his eyes were dancing with joy, he was not going to give up on her. 

 

              She ignored his hand, “I suppose I have a few minutes to see your work, but I am not buying anything just in case this is your way of getting your work sold!”

 

             Again, he threw his head back, and the beautiful hair followed as he laughed out loud, “I like your honesty, Miss Lara Richards!  No, I won’t sell you anything.  Not today.”

 

             Her admiration for Jack White grew as they walked through his exhibition.  He was clearly a very talented artist who obviously had a keen interest in painting portraits, especially of women.  As she stared into the eyes of the women, she wondered how many of them had lost sanity while sitting under the eyes of this extraordinary man with his charm and hypnotizing appearances.  She was sure they had all bowed to this god.  She caught sight of a large painting partially hidden by others.  It was a full-length painting of a beautiful blonde woman in the nude.  Her long hair draped around her lovely shoulders and her eyes were as blue as the heavens on a day when the clouds have been drawn aside to show off the magnificent unspoilt dome.  She became aware of Jack and embarrassed she said, “What a beautiful woman.  Why is the painting not for sale?’ 

 

              “It is not quite finished.  Let me show you some of my photography.  It is upstairs.”  She glanced back at the woman, she was intrigued by the beauty of the woman, but it was more than that, some strange stirring …

             “So, Miss Lara Richards, can you see why I need to paint you.  You will fit right into the this space that contains incredible beauty and attraction.”  He smiled as he poured her the glass of wine where they were sitting in the small but beautiful private garden behind his studio. 

 

              Lara laughed, “No, I cannot see why you would want to add me to your collection at all!  I am far too plain and uninteresting to keep company with your perfect people collection!”

 

           “Ah, you see that is part of your magnetism, the fact that you are totally unaware of the effect you have on others, especially on vulnerable hearts like mine.”  He leaned closer and passed her the glass, his eyes locking hers into an intimate, tantalizing moment. 

 

            They sat across from each other at the little table, the chairs comfortable and inviting its occupant to kick off shoes and sit back in the luxurious softness of expensive furniture.  It was too hard to resist, so she kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs up on the big chair, her head resting on the cushion.  She wanted to blame the chair or the wine or the man for being so at ease in a stranger’s place, but she really did not care enough to pursue the blaming game.

 

           They talked for hours, she told him about home, about her parents’ disapproval of her going away so far and about William who used to be her finance but is now the husband of her best friend.  She left them behind when she gave up her researcher’s position at university where she was earmarked as the one who would deliver innovative and exciting ideas in the world of education.  She gave it all up not to see William again.  Jack leaned over to her chair and gently wiped the tear from her cheek with his finger.  He smiled reassuringly and she believed everything would be fine. 

She told him about working for David Rockford and his rude treatment of an employee.  Jack smiled, “David is actually a good man, Lara.  He is a pain in the backside too, but he is a good provider and an honest bloke.  Off course, he will not fancy my friendship with you, so it might be better not to tell him at this stage.”

 

              They had a light dinner that Jack whipped up in the little kitchen of his studio. Then they sat back with another glass of wine and Jack told her about the town and the people living in this part of the world.  He talked about the hardships in times of drought and those who had to leave their land.  He talked about the political unrest and the fear amongst all the people that at some point everything will come to a point of no control. 

 

             The hours passed and it was ten to twelve when Jack helped her out of her chair.  He stood still as she came up from the chair and she could smell the pleasantness of his body; sense the muscles under the shirt.  His hand moved up and lifted her chin as he bent over and their lips met.  The world faded, she was drifting somewhere where nothing had weight or tears, it was magical.  Then her brain pushed through the barriers and insisted on common sense, so she pulled away from him, “I am sorry, Jack.  I can’t…”

 

He smiled, “Off course, I did not expect you to.” 

 

She drove up to the farm and saw the commanding pillars and gate with the name of the farm clearly engraved in the stone, “New Haven”. She thought it was the perfect name for her new start in life, away from William.  As she drove through the gates, she could not resist thinking about Jack and his possible part in her new beginning. 

 

She drove up to the garage as quietly as she could, realising that sound travelled extremely well in the complete silence of the farm. She walked up the steps when she saw the movement in one of the big chairs on the veranda.  It was someone getting up, she felt hysterical as she tried to remember the things Martha had told her about but in her fear, nothing was clear and it all compounded in a crazy, ferocious onslaught of everything she should be afraid of.  She stumbled backwards, lost her footing on the steps and opened her mouth to scream out so that someone would come and save her.  The figure moved with the speed and agility of an animal whose survival depended upon these abilities.  He grabbed her, one arm went around her waist, the other covered her mouth as he pulled her up the steps and against his body.  She felt his rock hard muscled body, not gym muscles like Jack’s.  These were the muscles of a man who worked hard physically.

 

              “I am going to take my hand away from your mouth now.  Are you ready?’

 

                She nodded and he withdrew his hand but not before he felt the tears streaming from her eyes.  In the darkness of the veranda he held her close and whispered, “I am sorry that I frightened you.  It is so late, I was worried.”  David Rockford gently held the young woman in his arms until he could feel her gain control of herself. 

                She felt confused, things were happening so fast.  Here she was standing in the arms of David Rockford, the man she absolutely detested and she felt safe and secure in his strong arms.  The smell of soap and clean skin emanating from him was perfect and expected to be part of man such as David Rockford.  She relaxed her head against his chest.  She felt grounded, as if she belonged.  She imagined what it would be like to pull her fingers through his dark brown hair with the stubborn curl here and there that refuses to be controlled.

 

                She almost fell down the steps again when he quickly stepped away from her.  “I am sorry,” he mumbled, “lock the door behind you when you go in.”  He disappeared into the darkness of the garden as she stood wondering about how much of this day and night could actually be real.  

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