The Auction a Romance by Anna Erishkigal Page 21

  "Until now, I've always been the one to bring her."

  I wanted to say ‘then why the heck do you let Eva see her’ but I already knew the answer. Adam walked a delicate line. If he refused Eva access, she would run to the judge and claim he was alienating her from her daughter.

  “Next time, warn me?” I said. “Okay?”

  “I’m sorry,” Adam said. “I try not to speak disparagingly about my former wife, for Pippa’s sake.”

  Perhaps somebody –should- speak badly about the bitch?

  “How wound up Pippa gets before her mother’s arrival,” I said. “That can’t be good. She changed five times, and then she stood by the window until she arrived. The least Eva could have done was call and tell us she’d be late.”

  “Eva’s always late.”

  “By three and a half hours?”

  Muffled curse. I could tell by the scratch of the receiver that Adam had placed his hand over the telephone. I waited for him to regain his composure. As much as I was tempted to encourage him to call Eva back and chew her out, I knew Pippa would be the one to pay, not me.

  “Eva was angry I refused to transport Pippa this time.” His voice sounded tight. “I'm sorry. Eva omitted telling me she was late.”

  I remembered the dream; that nobody had tried to help the drowning calf but me. All by myself, I wasn't strong enough to do the job. My own father had been clueless about the damage wrought by my mother’s tirades, but at the end of the day, I’d had a reliable wall of horseflesh to ride away my woes. Who did Pippa have? Pippa only had her father.

  “Listen Adam,” I said. “I can handle Eva, but what I can’t handle is how twisted up she makes your daughter when she criticizes her. I know you're supposed to be out there until Tuesday, but Pippa needs her father to help her work through it, not some teacher you hired for the summer.”

  There was a long silence on the other side.

  Be still, Rosie. Let the wild brumby stallion figure things out for himself…

  “I think I can get back before Eva drops Pippa off.” He did not sound angry, merely exhausted. “I have to make sure the men cap off this latest well, but as soon as I get that done, I’ll come home.”

  Home! Adam is coming home!

  --Oh, shut up, you idiot! He isn’t coming home for YOU! He’s probably pissed you’re making him step up to the plate.--

  I felt oddly apprehensive as I hung up the phone. I was getting too close. I needed to get out of this situation as quickly as I could.

  I gathered up my resumes and drove to the post office to mail them. I felt like a traitor as I slid them through the mail slot. There. It was done. The sooner I extricated myself from Adam’s dying marriage, the better off I would be. Because if I didn’t get out soon, I had a feeling Pippa wouldn’t be the only person to drown.

  Chapter 21

  It was not a silver Mercedes which picked its way daintily down the long, dirt driveway, but a white Land Rover which bounced heartily through the ruts as it kicked up a cloud of reddish dust, with a big, black cattle bar mounted upon the front bumper along with an assortment of winches and hooks. Queensland Gas & Coal was emblazoned in black letters upon the doors, and as it drew closer I could see the letter 'Q' consisted of a series of nesting circles which was the aboriginal symbol for ‘earth’ or 'hole.' Thunderlane ran out to greet his master, barking with reckless abandon.

  The dusty, tired man who stepped out of the driver’s seat bore little resemblance to the handsome stud stallion that’d begun to inhabit my daydreams. His shoulders curved forward in a weary slump, and as he walked towards me he bore the stiff shuffle of a man who’d just traveled a great distance after spending the morning exerting himself physically.

  “Welcome home,” I said.

  Adam gave me a weak smile that, despite his exhaustion, at least it reached his blue-green eyes. I stepped towards him, wanting more in this moment than in all the time I had known to give him a hug and hold him until the worry left his chiseled features.

  “You might not want to come near me until after I take a shower.” He gave me an apologetic grimace. “I didn’t have time to stop in at my office.”

  I wrung my hands, feeling guilty for forcing him to cut his trip short, but it needed to be done. In this shape, however, Adam would be easy prey for the Black Widow. My mother had done that, always timed her most ruthless attacks for whenever she knew my father would be at his weakest, either physically or emotionally.

  “You’ve got about forty minutes before she’s due to arrive,” I said. “Freshen up, and I’ll make you something to eat.”

  “Food sounds good.” His eyes took on that vulnerable look he sometimes wore. “Do you think, perhaps, that dinner could come with a cuppa coffee?”

  “No problem,” I said. “I’ll brew it nice and strong.”

  He adjusted his duffle bag and trailed into the house. As I popped the casserole I’d prepared earlier into the oven, the kind of dish which would be forgiving if Eva showed up late, I heard the shower kick on. Thunderlane came out and sat next to Pippa’s place at the kitchen table.

  “She’ll be home soon, sweetheart. And then we’ll all make sure Pippa knows we love her just the way she is.”

  I tossed together a quick cucumber sandwich, with extra goat cheese to give Adam a boost of protein until Pippa got home and we could all eat supper together. I didn't cut off the crusts, but sliced it into triangles. The scent of percolating coffee filled the air as I lay out the sugar bowl and the container of cream. I’d picked up a case of White Rabbit while I’d been in town yesterday, but Adam couldn’t relax until after he’d dealt with the Black Widow.

  Adam came out, his hair still wet, but at least now he looked no more exhausted than usual. I’d never realized he stopped off at the office and showered before coming home. It was, I suspected, a habit he’d picked up because Eva Jackson despised the dirt which had built her fortune.

  How can an oil heiress despise the earth?

  --Ugh! Who cares? All that matters is that Adam came home.--

  I handed him a cup of coffee.

  “Thanks,” Adam said. “Usually I clean up before I get home.”

  “Your car?”

  “I’ll retrieve it when I go into the office tomorrow. It was out of the way to swing into Toowoomba.”

  He sucked down the coffee and wolfed his sandwich, glancing between the clock and the living room picture window with the same look of nervous tension his daughter had exhibited on Friday. I could almost feel Adam's anxiety increase the closer we got to Eva's scheduled arrival.

  I touched the back of his hand.

  “She’ll be fine,” I said. “The minute she gets here, I’ll whisk her into her bedroom while you deal with Eva. And then, we’ll help Pippa transition back to normal.”

  My fingers tingled as I touched the fine, golden hairs on the back of his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He wore the frustrated, lost look of a dog that had been beaten up so many times he cringed whenever the master raised his voice.

  “I never know what to expect." Adam's voice rose with frustration. "Sometimes Pippa comes back from her mother and hates my guts. Other times, she hides in her room and cries.” He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the short roots as though he might rip them out. “I never figured out how to deal with Eva’s mood swings myself, so how am I supposed to teach a ten-year-old?”

  That slow, simmering pot of anger I hadn’t realized had been building ever since I’d had the nightmare evaporated into a sense of guilt. I had never learned to deal with my mother, either. I’d finally absented myself and cut her off, the exact same thing my father had done. Only when my father had left Australia, he’d abandoned me to deal with it alone. Adam, at least, was trying to step up to the plate.

  “I lay out her favorite My Little Pony pajamas on her bed,” I said. “The ones with Pinkie-Pie on the front. And her pink fuzzy slippers with the unicorn heads.”

  Adam gave me a weak gri
n.

  “Eva hates them. She tells Pippa that clothing is for babies. I think my mother bought them just to spite her.”

  “Your mother sounds like she was a very wise woman.”

  Adam's grin disappeared, replaced by that shadow of grief he always tried to hide.

  “In a few short months,” his voice warbled, “my mother did more for Pippa than the most expensive therapists. I wish she were still here to tell me what to do.”

  I slid my fingers to grip his muscular forearm and gave it a squeeze, not a prurient touch, but the brotherhood of two soldiers about to go into battle. A long moment of silence passed between us, not that awkward electricity which seemed to pull us together like a powerful pair of electromagnets, but a deeper sense of communion, as if Adam had decided to let me in. His opposite hand moved to cover mine. ‘Ah, Rosie,’ I could almost hear. ‘How I wish I had married a woman more like you.’

  I pushed that crazy thought right out of my mind.

  Thunderlane lurched to his feet and rushed to the front door, his fluffy tail jutted straight behind him like a spear. He began to growl.

  “They’re here,” I said.

  I watched Adam’s features transform into a less formidable facsimile of the hard man I’d met beside the river. Yes, Adam. That is the side of yourself you need to channel. Unlike the sun-leathered ghost, unfortunately, Adam had a soft side and Eva knew exactly how to hurt him. I squeezed his arm in an unspoken go and get her, and then grabbed Thunderlane by the collar. Adam stepped outside. The picture window was open, so I dragged the dog over to peek out from behind the curtain. Adam opened the limousine door before the driver could get out to do it.

  “Daddy!”

  Pippa burst out and threw her arms around her father’s waist. She appeared to be happy, and she was wearing brand new clothing. Eva stepped out behind her, eloquent and leggy in a tight, short red print skirt and a white cap-sleeved blouse. With her ten centimeter Manolo Blahniks, she was nearly as tall as Adam.

  “Why Adam!” Eva’s Pommie accent sounded as smooth as butter. “I had no idea you would be home.”

  She glanced towards the picture window, no doubt searching for me. Her lips curved up into a satisfied smirk. Bitch. She thought she had driven me away.

  “Hello Eva.” Adam’s posture remained stiff and his voice devoid of emotion. “I wanted to be here to welcome Pippa home.”

  Pippa looked around, her expression one of panic.

  “Daddy, where’s Rosie?”

  “She’s in the house,” Adam said, “holding the dog so he doesn’t get your mother dirty.”

  Eva’s smirk faded. Pippa looked like a kid who’d just been told she did not need to eat boiled liver and pickled sauerkraut for breakfast. She immediately bolted towards the front door.

  “Pippa?” Eva's face twisted into that expression all mothers wear when their children act less than perfect in public; the one where they dare not scream lest the other parents think they are mean, but their smile takes on the semblance of fangs.

  Pippa froze.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  Pippa turned back to her mother. With a painful formality, she walked back and gave her mother a perfect peck upon the cheek.

  “I will see you in two weeks, princess,” Eva said.

  “Yes, mother.” Pippa walked stiffly into the house until the screen door shut behind her, and then she immediately bolted into my arms.

  “Rosie! Thunderlane!” The inhibited little girl disappeared as she hugged me so fiercely that for a moment I couldn't breathe. I hugged her back and waited for the dog to stop welcoming Pippa home in his high-pitched, whining doggie language.

  “Go, go get on your pajamas,” I said, “so you don’t get your pretty new outfit all dirty.” I did not care one whit about the outfit, but I wanted it to be perfect for the next time Eva came. That way, Pippa would feel more comfortable about what to wear.

  Pippa sniffed the air and grinned.

  “What’s for supper?”

  “Tuna noodle casserole,” I said, “with lots of creamy white sauce, cracker crumbs and peas.”

  Pippa hurried down to her bedroom with the dog at her heel. I knew I should go help her, but I wanted to see how Adam acted around his ex-wife.

  “Pippa seems to be quite entranced by the teacher that –I- lined up for the summer.” Eva's scarlet smirk curved up into a black widow spider's hourglass.

  “Yes,” Adam said. “Rosie has a gift for sensitive children.”

  Eva stepped towards him.

  “You could bring her home to tutor Pippa at our house in Brisbane. It’s a much more suitable place to raise a child than this primitive backwater.”

  “I like it here.” Adam crossed his arms. “Pippa is the fourth generation of Bristows to be raised upon this station.”

  A curious shadow crossed Eva’s porcelain features.

  “I was never welcome here,” Eva said softly. “Perhaps if I had been, maybe we’d still be together?” She reached up to tangle her fingers in Adam’s hair. She stepped so close that one perfectly suntanned bare knee brushed against the sensitive flesh of Adam's inner thigh.

  An odd pang of jealousy clenched at my gut. Step back, Adam. Can’t you see what she’s trying to pull?

  “You never wanted to be welcome here.” Adam's voice warbled. “Not even after my father died and my mother begged you to come visit. This cattle station has always been beneath you.”

  Eva flattened her palm on Adam's cheek.

  “Your father said terrible things at our wedding.” Her brown eyes glistened. “But now that we are free of him, perhaps we might give marriage counseling another try?”

  Don't fall for it. Don't fall for it!

  Adam swayed towards her. Oh, how I knew what that body language meant! For in the earliest days of my parent’s divorce, some part of my father had wanted to work things out with my mother and I, foolish child, had pressured my daddy to stay.

  Adam reached up and encircled his fingers around Eva’s wrist.

  No, no, no, no!

  “Eva,” he said softly. “I will always love you. But there is a lot more wrong between us than the animosity between our fathers.”

  He tugged her hand away, and then he stepped back. Eva appeared surprised, and then her face contorted into a mask of hatred.

  “It’s that teacher you hired? Isn’t it?” Eva shrieked. “Do you really think the judge will let you replace me with some nameless, faceless nobody?”

  Adam stepped back even further, and for the first time I saw within him the horseman by the river, the real dark rider, not just the echo of the son who had always hung back in the pictures. Here was the man who dealt with oil sheikhs and wildcatters; the man who was tired of putting up with Eva Jackson's games.

  Adam's voice turned into ice.

  “What I do with my life is no longer any of your business, Eva. Our solicitors agreed we’d let Roberta pick out a teacher to catch Pippa up, not just a governess, and this time I shall hold you to your agreement.”

  “She wasn’t supposed to live with you!” Eva shrieked. “You were supposed to return to Brisbane and have her come during the day!"

  Adam stood stiff and tall.

  “Roberta sent her here,” Adam said. “If you want to second-guess her, I suggest you give her a call. After all, she’s your friend.”

  “Agh!” Eva gestured to the limousine driver. “Frederick! Get me out of here!”

  Adam waited until the tail lights disappeared into the dwindling sun. I bolted down the hallway to Pippa’s room so he wouldn’t know I'd eavesdropped. Pippa had already gotten changed, so I busied myself brushing out her French braid and setting her hair back into the pigtails she preferred.

  “Daddy!” Pippa sank into her father’s arms the moment he entered her room. She wrapped her arms around his waist and refused to let him go.

  I met Adam’s gaze. He wore that same pinched look he’d worn the very first day I had
met him.

  “I’ll go get supper on the table,” I said. “Why don’t you and Pippa reconnect?”

  Adam’s forehead wrinkled into a sheepish ‘oh, thank God you understand.’ The short-lived echo of his father disappeared into the far more compassionate man that was the son.

  After supper, while Adam tucked Pippa into bed, I stepped out onto the patio and faced the sleepy river.

  “Listen, mate,” I spoke to the phantasm in the darkness. “I don’t care about whatever bad blood you have going on between you and Eva’s father. Adam, he’s your son. Blood should take care of blood.”

  I swear I saw a massive shadow detach itself from the bushes near the river, but then it lit up with the flicker of countless fireflies.

  Chapter 22

  There was no charred breakfast left on the table this morning, only a cup of Turkish coffee because Adam would return home again tonight. I rubbed my thighs, which felt as sore as if I'd spent the entire night riding even though I'd never left my bed. It was a good pain, the kind of soreness I associated with getting things worked out inside my head. When Harvey was still alive, no matter how insurmountable the problem, once I climbed up onto his back, all of my worries fell away. It was why, after my father left Australia and my mother began pressuring me to sell him, I'd begun to skip classes to go for trail rides.

  "Thanks, Harvey," I said to the ghost horse who'd spent last night helping me work out a plan. Eva wanted Adam. Adam wanted out. Eva kept using Pippa as a tool to try to reel Adam back into a dysfunctional marriage. I only knew too well what that felt like! Well, Eva Bristow-Jackson was tangling with the wrong person. My bitch of a mother had taught me a thing or two about manipulating a custody dispute.

  I smirked as I remembered Rosanne Barr writing out her list in the movie She Devil. I grabbed a piece of scrap paper and jotted down my plan.

  .

  The Plan

  Math

  Friends

  Roots

  School