MIRACLE ON KAIMOTU ISLAND/ALWAYS THE HERO (26 page)

An accidental kiss?

Of course it had been. But if he’d needed a slap in the face to wake him up, it had certainly done the trick. Of course he still loved Abby.

The knowledge had been waiting to punch him from the first moment he’d seen her in that waiting room, hadn’t it?

Had he really thought it was simply ancient history? That he’d buried his feelings for Abby so well, along with everything else about that break-up, that it had become impenetrable?

And now there was Jack.

It had been Tom who’d carried the small boy out of the sinkhole. In his arms. He could still feel the clutch of those skinny arms around his neck. The sturdy little legs around his waist. He was such a small person. So incredibly vulnerable.

He hadn’t been crying, though. He was just as brave as his mother.

Maybe just as brave as his father?

Oh...man... Yes. These feelings were overwhelming. The build-up of pressure was unbearable.

Moz and Abby, who was now carrying Jack, were ahead of him. Without thinking, Tom lashed out with his heavily booted foot, kicking at a pile of rock and earth. The debris scattered but it wasn’t enough. He kicked it again for good measure and felt a shaft of pain in his ankle as a larger rock moved.

Good.

Tom sucked in a breath. It was a tiny vent for the pressure inside but it helped. He paused for a moment to wriggle his foot and check that he hadn’t been stupid enough to injure his ankle, and it was in that moment that his headlight caught the shine of something pale in the rubble.

Frowning, he stooped and brushed some more earth away. The pale thing was plastic. The head of a doll. A male doll, who was wearing camouflage clothing.

Action Man? It had to be.

Tom had a grin on his face as he eased himself through the gap that had allowed them access to the mine shaft in the first place.

Mission accomplished.

He brushed some more dirt off the toy and waited a minute or two until Shelley and Moz had moved away from where Abby was sitting with Jack in her arms, a blanket now draped over her shoulders. Shelley was helping Moz go through the backpacks, looking for something for Jack to eat and drink.

Tom walked towards them, holding Action Man behind his back, a little unsure how to present his find.

Good grief...he was feeling
shy
?

He was certainly feeling something that wasn’t anger anymore.

Seeing Abby sitting there, holding her son,
their
son, was doing something very odd to that mix of emotion in his gut. Tom could feel his throat closing up. A weird prickle at the back of his eyes.

Tears?

The thought was shocking enough to stop him in his tracks for a moment.

They were safe. His son. The woman he still loved.

There was peace to be found in that realisation. The kind of satisfaction that came with the success of any tough job and then some. Then a whole heap more because he had a real connection to these people.

Tom swallowed hard. He moved again. Got close to Abby and Jack and then crouched down into a squat.

‘Guess what I found?’

He’d never forget the way Jack stared at him with those wide, startled eyes. The way his grubby little face lit up with the biggest grin in the world when he saw his beloved toy.

The ordeal was forgotten.

‘You okay, buddy?’ Tom had to check. ‘Nothing hurts?’

Jack shook his head.

‘Not scared anymore?’

He shook his head again. He clutched Action Man a bit tighter and then his grin reappeared. A cheeky flash that Tom recognised.

God knew, he’d seen it in photographs often enough. In the mirror, even.

‘I
was
scared,’ Jack whispered. ‘But now I liked it.’

A huff of sound came from Abby and Tom’s gaze shifted to capture hers. They both knew exactly what Jack meant. That he might have been terrified at the time but now that it was all over, he wouldn’t mind doing it again because the way he felt now made it all worthwhile.

How was it possible to feel such an instant bond with another human being? That simple, childish logic had gone straight to a place in Tom’s heart that nobody else had ever touched.

Even Abby. This small child, who’d probably never experienced anything really dangerous because he had such a protective mother, understood exactly why Tom did what he did.

Could he feel that same exhilaration without knowing what it was? Tom could recognise the fizzing sensation running through his veins. He’d experienced it often enough. It was the thrill of still being alive after the adrenaline rush of facing danger had receded.

When you knew you were safe and you could breathe again. When everything about life seemed to have more colour. More meaning. The time when it was so obvious that life was worth living.

Shelley came back with water and muesli bars for Abby and Jack. They all needed to eat and drink something and then they could get moving. It would be a long haul getting back through the bush to where they’d left the helicopter, especially with a small child to carry now. And with Abby’s sore knee.

Except maybe they wouldn’t have to after all. As the light brightened a notch, Tom could hear something that swiftly became the recognisable chop of an Iroquois helicopter.

They had sent in the troops.

Moz let out a whoop and pumped a fist in Tom’s direction. He grinned back. Things were looking up.

And then he looked back to where Abby was now standing with Jack. His son was bouncing up and down, pointing at the approaching helicopter. He held his mum’s hand on one side. The pointing hand was still firmly clutching Action Man.

Tom could feel his grin fading.

How come he’d never realised this before?

That it wasn’t the absence of danger that gave you that feeling that life was worth living.

It was
this
feeling. The connection with other people.

Love.

The realisation was shocking. It pretty much contradicted the premise his life had always been built around.

What the hell was he supposed to do about that?

CHAPTER SEVEN

I
T
 
WAS
 
SO
 
QUIET
.

Everything and everyone on Kaimotu Island seemed to be caught in a stunned silence.

It seemed that the worst was over. They could expect a lot more aftershocks, of course, but none of them would be anywhere near the intensity of that first dreadful quake.

Abby was back at the information centre where the focus was now on looking to the immediate future rather than urgent rescue missions.

Everyone was accounted for. Those unfortunate enough to have been trapped in buildings had been rescued. Anyone who had suffered serious injuries had been airlifted to the mainland. Engineers were swarming over the township, assessing whether it was safe for people to go back to their houses and start cleaning up.

For the first time, Abby spared a thought for her own cottage. Until now, whether her home had survived the quake had been inconsequential compared to Jack’s safety. Now all she wanted to do was to take her son and...and go home.

She had never been this exhausted in her life. Too tired to eat, even, despite the fact that the Hayward sisters were providing delicious bacon butties straight off a barbecue for anyone who wanted breakfast. They were fussing over Jack, who sat at one end of the long table, eating bacon with one hand and still clutching his Action Man toy with the other.

Tom was beside him, clearly enjoying his own generously stuffed sandwich, talking with other rescue personnel between bites. There were a lot of people here. Stood down from active duty now because they were all well overdue for a rest and, as far as anybody could tell, nobody was in imminent danger any longer.

The rest of the school children were being taken off the beach below where the bus was stuck. Moz had gone out on the boat so that he could get back to the helicopter and retrieve it. In just a few hours, he and Tom would be expected to take that helicopter back to their Auckland base and step back into their own lives.

What would happen then?

Tom hadn’t said anything about where they would go from here.

He hadn’t said much of anything at all, really, since they’d all come out of the mine shaft.

And Abby hadn’t said anything much to Tom, either, because what she needed to say was so big she had no idea where to start.

He had saved her son.
His
son. Nobody else would have even attempted that dangerous rescue. Apart from herself, of course, but she could never have done it without Tom.

The debt of gratitude was too deep to measure but it came with a mix of fear, as well. What might Tom expect in return? How much was this going to change their lives?

‘You okay, Abby?’ Mike Henley looked pale with fatigue. ‘I heard about what happened up at the mine. He’s quite something, isn’t he?’

Had Mike noticed that she was standing here by herself, staring at Tom Kendrick? Oh, help... How many other people had noticed?

And he was standing right beside Jack. How long would it take for somebody to notice the physical similarities between Tom and Jack? It was amazing that one of the Hayward sisters hadn’t spotted the exciting discovery and said something already, but maybe everybody was just too tired right now.

‘I’m okay, thanks, Mike.’ Abby tried to sound convincing. ‘I just want to get home and see what state the cottage is in. Get some sleep, maybe. Do you know where Ben is? I’d better find out if I’m needed up at the hospital first.’

‘What’s needed is for you to get some rest,’ Mike told her. ‘You and Jack. We’ve got plenty of people holding the fort for the moment. Ben and Ginny are coping up at the hospital. Did you hear that Squid Davies died?’

‘Oh...
no
. What happened?’

‘The search dogs found him under a pile of cray pots but he seemed to be okay. Had a bump on the head but he wasn’t keen on being dragged up to the hospital. Apparently Ben and Ginny fixed him up and left him to have a rest while they went to treat someone else and when they went back, there he was. Dead.’

Abby swallowed back the prickle of tears. ‘Ben must be devastated. He and Squid were such good friends.’

‘I think Ginny was more upset about it, actually. Ben’s saying that we have to remember that Squid
was
ninety-seven years old and he’d had a great life. And he had been having a few problems with his ticker. Ben reckons he died peacefully. People are already saying that he died with a smile on his face and a bubble over his head that read, “I told you so.”’

Abby had to smile. It was true. Squid had been forecasting the ‘big one’ for a while now and nobody had taken any notice. Being proved right was a pretty good note to go out on. Especially when you’d reached the grand old age of ninety-seven.

Would she live that long? Get to see her grandchildren having children, maybe?

Maybe she’d still be living alone in her little cottage. Wandering down to sit on a pile of cray pots and enjoy the sunshine. Remembering Squid and his prophecy of doom.

The prospect was a long way from being appealing.

‘I’ll get hold of the engineers,’ Mike was saying now, ‘and see if they’ve had a look at your place yet. Then I’ll organise some transport.’

‘We can walk,’ Abby protested. ‘It’s not that far.’

‘You’re dead on your feet, Abby. You look like you’ve been run over by a steamroller.’

Abby had to smile. It felt like that, too. Physically and emotionally. Her feet felt like lead as she started moving again.

‘You had enough bacon, Jack? It’s time we went home.’

‘Can Tom come, too?’

‘I...uh...’ Abby managed to avoid catching Tom’s gaze. He had crashed back into her life and already seemed to have penetrated too far, too fast past its safe boundaries. The home she’d created in the last six years was the only part of her life he hadn’t entered. Could she cope with having to share that, as well?

‘Tom’s got things he has to do,’ she told Jack. ‘With...with the helicopter and stuff.’

‘It’ll be a while before Moz gets back.’ Tom’s voice sounded deceptively calm. ‘I’d like to see that you both get home safely.’

‘Cool...’ Jack grinned up at Tom. ‘I can show you my tree hut. I built it all by myself.’

‘Did you, now? Didn’t Action Man help?’

‘Nah... I built it when I was
four
.’

Tom looked suitably impressed. ‘I’d like to see that.’

Abby closed her eyes as she took a slow breath. It hadn’t taken much building. It wasn’t even a tree hut, really. Jack had discovered the hollow centre of the old macrocarpa hedge that ran along the back of their garden and he’d claimed it for his ‘hut’. It was his favourite place to play. A place that only special people were invited to visit.

She’d never been allowed to crawl inside. Jack had sawn off some tiny branches to make a hole big enough for her to deliver snacks and drinks but it was
his
space and she respected that.

Now he was inviting Tom to see it. He didn’t even know that this man, who’d been a complete stranger until a few hours ago, was his father, but already there was a bond there that she felt excluded from.

And it wasn’t a nice feeling. On top of everything else, it was simply too much to cope with and Abby had the horrible feeling she might burst into tears.

‘Abby? We’ve got a Jeep going your way. Engineers tell me your chimney’s come down but the rest of the house is sound. Bit of a mess with broken crockery and stuff, that’s all. Will you be okay to start sorting that yourself?’

‘She won’t be by herself.’ It was Tom who spoke. ‘I’m going with them. Moz can contact me by radio when he’s back. Or you can get hold of me if I’m needed elsewhere.’

‘You’re on stand-down for now, mate. You’ve done more than enough.’ Mike gripped Tom’s shoulder. ‘We can’t thank you enough. I’m sure Abby feels the same way.’ He was smiling at Jack now.

Abby hurriedly scooped her small son into her arms. It would look pretty churlish if she refused Tom’s intention to accompany them to see what needed to be sorted out at the cottage. And she was too tired to argue. This was clearly going to happen and somehow, she had to deal with it.

The driver of the Jeep was Ruth’s husband, Damien.

‘Ruth’s at home with the kids now,’ he told Abby. ‘We got off lightly. Something to be said for living in a train carriage, I guess. Lost some of the pottery in the shed but that’s all. I wanted to do something to help the others.’

He had plenty more to tell her about in the short drive.

‘There’s offers of help pouring in from all over New Zealand. Tradesmen are offering to donate their time to help rebuild things and others are already donating money to buy the materials. Kind of restores your faith in human nature, eh?’

‘I’m often amazed by the good things that can fall out of what seems like a horrible package no one would want to accept.’

Tom’s words were quiet. They were in response to Damien’s comment. But his eyes were fixed on the rear-view mirror and it felt like he was talking only to her. Funny how reflected eye contact could feel just as intense as the real thing.

Did he mean meeting her again?

No. She ignored the skip her heart took. He meant finding out about Jack. Learning that he was a father.

It didn’t take long to get to Abby’s house, a stone’s throw from the beach. Small and old, the weatherboard dwelling had a corrugated iron roof now heavily dented by where the brick chimney had toppled and come crashing down to leave only a few jagged bricks at roof level.

‘That’ll need covering before it rains,’ Tom observed. ‘Lucky you had an iron roof. Something like tiles and you would have found that pile of bricks right inside your house.’

‘Mmm.’ The agreement was somewhat strangled. That pile of bricks was a tiny patch of destruction compared to what had happened elsewhere but it was a very personal patch and Abby had to blink back tears as she looked at it.

It felt like she had a similar pile of rubble somewhere deep inside her. The barrier between her life before and after Jack had come into it?

The safety walls?

* * *

Tom gave himself a mental kick.

What a stupid observation to have made about the chimney. No wonder Abby had made that dismissive sound. Or that she was now walking away from him.

It was more than reluctance to engage in conversation, though, wasn’t it?

Abby hadn’t wanted him to come here at all. She was reluctant to invite him any further into her life, and fair enough...he got that.

But this was also where Jack lived and surely he had the right to see where his son had been living for the last five years?

Where he’d been cradled and fed as a newborn?

Where he’d taken his first wobbly steps?

Spoken his first word?

Made his first tree hut?

An entire lifetime for Jack so far, and Tom hadn’t been remotely aware of any of it. He’d missed out on so much. But if he gave that any more head space, that anger that he’d been so aware of when he’d been stomping his way out of the mine tunnel could resurface. If he didn’t want to miss out on a whole lot more of Jack’s life, it would be advisable to make sure it didn’t.

So Tom allowed himself only a frown. A scowl that was directed squarely at Abby’s back as she opened the front door of her cottage. He couldn’t maintain the scowl, then, because his eyebrows shot up.

‘Your door’s unlocked?’ Super-safety-conscious Abby didn’t even bother making sure her home was secure these days?

‘No reason to lock it,’ she said. ‘Not in the off-season, anyway. The only time stuff is likely to get stolen is when there are thousands of tourists around.’

‘Mmm...’ It wasn’t lost on Tom that the sound he made was a perfect echo of Abby’s reaction to his comment about the chimney but he didn’t like the idea of Abby taking safety for granted. For herself or Jack.

Abby ignored his response. Holding Jack’s hand, she walked down the short hallway into the space at the back of the cottage—a room that ran the width of the house and contained both a kitchen and living area.

The chimney stack might have fallen outside the house, but bricks and mortar and a lot of dust had also tumbled down what remained of the structure and had billowed out into the room. What looked like dirty icing sugar coated ornaments and pictures that had fallen from the mantelpiece and a heap of books dislodged from shelves.

Chairs had toppled beside an old, scrubbed pine dining table and a light fitting dangled from a wire, well below where it had been attached to the ceiling. It was the kitchen that had suffered the most damage, however. Cupboard doors were open and their contents of crockery and glassware lay in broken piles on the dusty wooden floorboards.

‘Careful, Jack,’ Abby said. ‘Don’t walk there.’

‘Why not?’

‘The broken bits have got sharp edges. I don’t want you getting cut.’

Tom found himself nodding agreement. Not just because he didn’t want Jack getting injured, either, but because this sounded more like the Abby he knew. The safety-conscious one.

He had learned so many things about this woman in less than a day. He’d learned that she was a fiercely protective mother and that she had more courage than you could shake a stick at and that she was terrified of losing the people she loved because of the way her parents had been ripped out of her life. It was a relief to recognise something he could remember. Like the way she’d always checked that the door was locked. And double-wrapping a broken glass in newspaper so that the person collecting their rubbish wouldn’t get cut.

Jack’s eyes were wide. ‘It’s messy,’ he announced.

Abby actually smiled. ‘It’s okay, hon. Mess is something we can fix.’

‘Will my tree house be messy, too?’

‘I wouldn’t think so.’

‘Can I go and see?’

‘Sure.’ Abby lifted Jack over the broken crockery, her own boots crunching through the shards as she carried him to the French doors beyond the dining table.

Tom noticed the garden now. A small area bordered by a thick green hedge. The clothesline was a rope tied to a tree at one end and a branch of the hedge at the other, propped up in the middle by a tall, forked branch of driftwood. There were Jack-sized clothes pegged on the line, along with towels and some very feminine underwear.