CHAPTER TWO
The car turned into a long, curving driveway. Elegant, well-tended hedges trimmed the decorative charcoal-coloured concrete. Small spotlights lined the driveway. The house the driveway led to looked like some sort of display home that could be advertised in an exclusive architectural magazine. The way James had said ‘home’ didn’t quite make it sound like…this. This house was the type of mansion she drooled over online. She never thought she’d come close to actually being inside something like this.
At the beach, James had settled Madeline and herself on the back seat of his car. He’d pulled a blanket out of the boot and wrapped them both in it, surprising Elizabeth with his thoughtfulness. Madeline had cuddled easily into Elizabeth’s side. Surely, a child would want her mother after her experience and not settle for a stranger. At first she’d been tentative about putting her arm around the child, then Madeline sighed and closed her eyes and she’d tucked her in close, wondering at her complete trust.
James turned the heat to maximum and let it blast on full after it had warmed up. He’d put the dog in the front seat, and Elizabeth had cringed at his sandy, wet paws on the expensive leather. Now the car smelt of wet dog and sea water; not good in a car as luxurious as this, but it didn’t seem to worry James at all. He either didn’t mind the mess or was too rich to care; she wasn’t sure which.
Toto jumped up on the inside windowsill of the car, tongue lolling from the corner of his mouth as the house came into view. It was three stories of solid brickwork and talented architecture. A front door was settled beneath a canopy that doubled as a large carport. Situated on either side of the structure was a series of floor to ceiling windows that spilled light onto the shrubs outside. The second floor was a replica of the ground floor, the difference being that each pair of windows shared a balcony framed with exquisite ironwork. The third floor was similar, except the windows were smaller and had quaint white shutters that framed each window. It was sleek and modern and friendly all at once. No mean feat, considering the size of the structure.
James pulled the car to a smooth stop beneath the cover just as thunder cracked and the sky exploded in a deluge of rain. The front door opened, and a short, plump woman was silhouetted against the light from inside. Maybe Madeline’s mother? Elizabeth squinted at the form but couldn’t distinguish any features.
James leapt from the car and bundled Madeline from the backseat. Elizabeth helped unfold the child into his arms, her muscles groaning with the effort. In the short time she’d sat, she’d stiffened right up. Maybe the swim had taken more out of her than she thought. Or maybe it had been the fifteen hours she’d spent cramped in a bus seat, hoping she’d made a clean getaway. Either way, it was an effort to move.
James headed straight for the door. She heard the woman utter a sound of shock and James’ masculine answering tones. Toto slipped between the front seats and out of Elizabeth’s door, nudging her leg as he passed. The woman grabbed the dog by the collar as it tried to bolt through the open door. “Into the laundry with you, you naughty dog.” Elizabeth detected an Italian accent as she disappeared into the house with the animal.
Coming here really wasn’t a good idea, not now that she knew what ‘here’ looked like. She was sure the inside would be as imposing as the outside. Trepidation itched her insides.
She really should have just walked into the town and put up with cold, wet clothes. They would have been more comfortable than the unease that wove through her stomach.
“Elizabeth, please come in.”
Her name on his lips sounded like warm honey. She couldn’t help noticing his hair tufting all about in a mess from the wind and rain. Tense lines framed his eyes and mouth, but that was to be expected given his daughter had nearly drowned. That wasn’t all that captured her attention. That was harder to put her finger on. Maybe it was the way he regarded her, like she was a wild colt ready to bolt, or the patience he exuded waiting for her.
Maybe it was the tiredness in his gaze that said nothing could surprise him. She understood that. Maybe it was that understanding that allowed her to take a step towards him, where her entire mind screamed at her to turn around and get the hell away.
She wasn’t prepared for the small shiver that tingled her spine at his gaze. She quickly dismissed the unwanted response. She’d just spent fifteen hours on a bus running from a bad decision. She didn’t need another one.
However, the only thing James had asked of her on the short distance driving here was her name, then he’d lapsed into silence. The situation hadn’t called for small talk, which was good. She didn’t think she’d had it in her for small talk at the moment.
But she was cold. And she was hungry, so maybe she should just take advantage of the situation. Besides, he was waiting for her with a cold child in his arms. If that hadn’t been enough to change her mind, the ear-splitting explosion of thunder and solid sheet of cold rain sealed her decision. The storm had arrived.
She slung her bag over her shoulder and hurried up the steps. “Go in. Get Madeline dry and warm.”
The woman hustled back down the massive hallway towards them, brushing off her hands, her appearance surprising Elizabeth. She certainly wasn’t James’ wife, not unless he went for mature-aged, matronly Italian grandmothers. Her olive complexion sported pleasant lines around kind eyes and streaks of grey in her otherwise black hair. At the moment, it was in a tidy bun at the top of her head. She was nicely proportioned in the way that made people think of grandmothers, food, and comfort.
“Mrs. D’llessio, could you please show Elizabeth to the guest quarters and make sure she has fresh towels for a shower? Can you also please arrange to launder her clothing?”
James Rhyder was all business. Judging by the request, Mrs. D’llessio was the housekeeper. Judging by the luxury, it looked as though he could afford one. The woman’s worried brown eyes rested on Elizabeth, then back to Madeline.
“I’ll take care of Madeline while you help Elizabeth. Come to me when Elizabeth is settled,” he said.
The thought of being so close to taking a hot shower made Elizabeth’s mouth salivate. Her jeans were just about frozen to her legs, and the heavy seams held moisture in uncomfortable places. Her bra seemed glued to her chest like a cold sponge, and her T-shirt was damp enough to warrant the spread of goose bumps over her skin. She itched to take off the sodden clothes and treat her body to some warmth.
“Of course!”
“Please, Elizabeth, go with Mrs. D’llessio and make yourself comfortable.”
His eyes settled back to her. The light from the hallway reflected in their depths. They were dark, as though all the colour had bled from the iris and all that remained was the pupil.
“I’ve got clothes in my bag. And please. I can do my own washing, thank you for the offer.” No one had done her washing since she was ten years old. Besides, she wasn’t going to be here long enough for it to be washed and dried.
“They’re wet and full of the ocean. They’ll smell if you don’t clean them right away. Mrs. D’llessio will wash them along with the rest of our clothes. It’s the least we can do.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together, her grip tightening on the strap of her bag. “I’ll get to a laundromat.”
“Tsk, it is nothing. I will do it now. There is time for a shower and eating. Believe me, I know my clothes.” Mrs. D’llessio’s eyes had that tenacious look in them. Elizabeth knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
And she only had a few clothes with her, the jeans she wore were one of only two, and she was already down a coat. She sighed, nodding reluctantly, then looked at the housekeeper and grimaced. “I’m so sorry to ask you to do this, but I would be grateful.”
The woman smiled, enveloping her in motherly warmth. “You didn’t ask me to do anything, Cara. I offered. After the wonderful thing you have done saving my little bambina, it would be my pleasure.” She shooed James with a flick of her hand. “You go now. I’ll be up soon. Get my little bambina in a hot bath. Miss Elizabeth, you come with me, and I’ll have you sorted out and warmed up as well.”
Elizabeth’s brows rose at the casual way she shooed James down the hallway. James ran up the stairs two at a time, clutching Madeline to his chest. He disappeared into a room to the right of the landing. The door opened, and she glimpsed pink walls and white furniture, typical colouring for a little girl's bedroom.
“Come. Come.” Elizabeth followed the housekeeper upstairs. “You are this way.”
They turned left on the landing and walked down the length of the hallway to the last door on their right. She opened the door and went through. Elizabeth followed, then stopped as her shoes sunk into lush, soft carpet. Her mouth fell open as she gaped at the room.
A king-sized bed, topped with an array of puffy pillows of various sizes, faced the door. Dark wooden bedside tables topped with matching slimline metallic lamps were on either side of the massive bed. Understated matching creams perfectly matched dark brown wood.
On either side of the tables, Roman blinds were artfully half-closed over floor to ceiling windows, peeking from between a pair of voluminous curtains pinned by enormous oversized curtain ropes. An intricate, modern ceiling chandelier threw demure shafts of light throughout the room.
It was a long way from her single cot and a wooden house with cracks in the walls large enough to allow any light-seeking insect into her room. There would be no need to check the bed for bugs before she got into this one.
“Oh. My shoes!” She quickly bent to take them off and hugged them to her chest. She looked to see if she’d made dirty track marks on the carpet behind her. “You know what? I don’t want to make a mess. I can always grab a shower somewhere else.”
Mrs. D’llessio’s eyes widened, and she took Elizabeth’s elbow in her hand. “There is no need to feel…” she gestured with her spare hand, “uneasy. Mr. Rhyder said you come here for rest. So you do. You did a good thing for us. Do not worry.”
Elizabeth stood her ground, despite the tugging on her elbow. She should have listened to her gut at the beach and headed in the opposite direction than James Rhyder. Her gut had never steered her wrong. Only her head tended to do that, and she’d had enough of listening to that.
She gently removed her arm from the housekeeper's grasp. “Thank Mr. Rhyder for his hospitality, but I really need to get going.”
“Please. Do not go. Mr. Rhyder said you saved Madeline from the ocean. Madeline… she wants to see you. She is just a little girl, and she has already lost so much…”
The tone of the housekeeper’s voice made Elizabeth stop in her tracks. She turned towards the older lady and quirked a brow. “Surely, she needs her mother more than she needs me right now.”
The silence made Elizabeth turn. Mrs. D’llessio’s hands wring the end of her apron. “Madeline only has Mr. Rhyder. Please, he asked me to make you welcome. Come, have a shower, and I’ll get you something to eat. It won’t take long. Food makes everything better. Yes?”
At the thought of food, Elizabeth’s stomach rumbled. How long had it been since she’d last eaten anything besides a bag of potato chips? A day. Maybe more. Her insides protested the lack of food in a painful twist. She clutched her hand over her belly, her face instantly heating with embarrassment, but Mrs. D’llessio laughed. “Now, don’t be silly. You are cold, and you are hungry. We will remedy both, yes?”
Reluctantly, she followed the housekeeper. Luxury flowed from the bedroom into the adjoining ensuite. “How many bathrooms does this place have?” Elizabeth asked.
“One for each bedroom.”
Elizabeth blinked, thinking of the number of doors that lined the balcony. “And how many bedrooms are there?”
“Twenty.”
Mrs. D’llessio opened the cupboard below the sink and handed clean, fluffy towels to her. There was a hidden cupboard behind the mirror stocked with the amenities she would need. Elizabeth stared in amazement at the expensive bottle of body lotion and a jar of face cream she’d never tried because of the price. The only creams she bought were the ones from the supermarket, discounted at that.
“Take your time. Use what you need. I think you all need a bowl of my pasta. Wait until you try it. I made it today. Fresh. You won’t be able to stop eating. And you...you so thin. You need to eat.” The housekeeper smiled and closed the door, leaving Elizabeth standing in the middle of the huge bathroom that was bigger than her entire bedroom back at the farm.
She caught her reflection in the mirror and grimaced. The wind had dried her salt-caked hair into hardened spikes that stood out in every angle, her mascara had run down her cheeks, and her clothes were stained. A shower was a good idea.
She wrestled off her damp clothes, and her body sighed with the relief. Sand sprinkled over the floor as she flicked at some of the grit on her arms. She looked in the cupboards for a brush and pan, but there was none. She worked the bath mat over the floor and scooped the sand into a pile so as to limit her mess.
She turned on the shower and uttered a sigh of relief when she stepped beneath the flow of hot water and heat permeated her skin. Against her better judgment or not, right at this moment she couldn’t deny how good it felt.
She wondered where Madeline’s mother was. She clearly wasn’t around, judging by Mrs. D’llessio’s reaction. She didn’t have to wonder much at mothers leaving daughters. She knew all about that, but at least James seemed to be a dedicated father and had stuck around at least.
Not that she knew much about parenting, but Madeline went easily into his arms. She knew without a doubt children didn’t go to adults they didn’t feel comfortable with. Not children at Madeline’s age anyway. They were true to their feelings.
She knew how children acted around adults they didn’t trust or know. She knew how children acted being taken from their home and left in different homes time after time. She knew how it felt never to have a proper mother or father, only stand-ins who didn’t much care for her either way.
She’d certainly never had a father figure like James. When she’d turned ten, the state-run homes had carers instead of pseudo-parents, and she’d never had a parental-figure from them on out.
She’d tried finding comfort with numerous boyfriends over the years, but they’d only wanted the obvious from her, which she’d given. But they’d never provided her with more than a few moments of escape. Not comfort. Never love.
She went through a time of keeping to herself. It simplified her life. If she didn’t expect anything out of it, she wouldn’t be disappointed. It worked for a while. Then she’d met David and started to want more again. She certainly received more than she bargained for with him. And learned a great lesson.
She was never going to trust another man again.
David was handsome in that rugged, cocky cowboy type way. He sucked her right in with that look easily enough. Reeled her in like a fish. James was the epitome of tall, dark, handsome and obviously had money. No doubt he’d have a trail of equally sophisticated women after him. He’d probably treat them well. Make them feel special. Make them feel loved.
A sharp, humourless laugh escaped her lips. She’d been watching too many Hollywood movies. Everyone wanted to be Pretty Woman...well, not the prostitute part, but the part where the hero doesn’t care a whit about the heroine’s background. Unfortunately, that type of thing didn’t happen in real life.
James seemed different, but really, how would she know? How could she know about any man? She might daydream about a perfect partner, someone who might care for her, but in reality it would only ever be a fantasy. That life - wanted. Loved. Cherished. That life didn’t happen to girls like her.
Elizabeth sighed, returning to the moment. She didn’t know how long she’d been standing here, but her fingertips were wrinkled. Reluctantly, she ended the shower and dried off.
The bedroom door was closed, so she padded across the room to her bag wrapped in the delicious soft luxury of the enormous towel. She rifled through the contents of her bag, trying to work out what to put on. She only owned a few articles of clothing. She bit her lip, scanning the few items tossed on the bed. Most of her clothes were well and truly crumpled. The few she’d thought decent looked old and worn compared to the luxury of the house.
With a sigh, she pulled fresh jeans on, ignoring the sun-faded wrinkles. There was a stain of something on her thigh the Homestead’s washing machine had failed to clean completely out. Her spare T-shirt had a hole in the side, but beneath a jumper no one would know.
She glanced at herself in a full-length mirror. She looked as though she’d fit in here just as well as a round peg in a square hole, but at least she was warm and clean now. Thanks to the good quality shampoo and conditioner, her hair fell in long, silken waves halfway down her back. The sun had streaked her hair with natural highlights. Blonde and auburn strands all mixed and matched together.
She’d let her hair grow while she’d been at the “Wanderers Homestead”, opting to wear it in a practical ponytail to keep it out of the way. Riding horses was dirty, sweaty work and didn’t warrant even brushing her hair half the time.
She dug into her meagre cosmetics. She didn’t own much, but a touch of lipstick gave her some colour at least. She gave herself another critical review in the mirror. She looked like the blow-in she was and definitely not a part of James’s plush world. Instead, she ran her palms down her thighs, tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach, wondering why she’d noticed anything about James at all.
Not that fact that he was tall and handsome and had looked at her in that understanding way, as though he actually knew what she’d been through in her life and it didn’t scare him. They were worlds apart. No amount of understanding would make her fit in this world, and there was no way he’d want to journey into hers. They were simply poles apart, a freak accident bringing them together for a few hours. A kindness replayed.
She didn’t even know why she was thinking about James and boyfriends and her sad, lonely history at all. She was a stranger who had saved his daughter, and he was showing some thanks. End of story.
She was clean and warm. Soon she’d have something to eat, and then she’d be out of his life forever.
The sooner, the better.