The Auction a Romance by Anna Erishkigal Read online

  I took a sip of mine. It was back to the awkward dance we did every night over a stupid bottle of beer. He watched me with that perceptive gaze, taking in everything, and yet sometimes I thought Adam was blind. We drank in silence until Adam hit the bottom of his bottle. He got up and fetched us both a second brew even though mine was only a quarter of the way down. He drank that one down as well and fetched a third. He had something to say, and he wasn't certain how to say it.

  Finally he did…

  "Eva called me this morning," Adam said, "before she called you. She asked me to bring Pippa to spend Christmas with her parents."

  Not news… The Black Widow relished delivering that blow herself.

  "Christmas Eve is next Wednesday," I said aloud. "Will she pick up Pippa Friday and keep her straight through next weekend?"

  Adam watched me with a hooded gaze.

  "She wants me to bring Pippa and try to make peace with her father. There's an important court hearing on Monday in the lawsuit about my job and Maynor Jackson indicated he might be willing to make some concessions."

  A stab of jealousy clenched at my gut. I took a deep breath before I opened my mouth and something jealous-sounding popped out, such as 'why the heck can't Eva just take Pippa there herself.'

  "Have fun," I said.

  Adam swished his beer around the inside of his bottle. He did that often. Used an inanimate object as a crutch.

  "Eva moved back into our house in Brisbane," Adam said softly. "It means we would have to stay there with her."

  Adam's voice faded to sound very far away as a sense of vertigo made the room spin. I wanted him to tell Eva to piss off, but I'd seen him dance around her enough to see he still possessed feelings for her.

  "When would you have to go?" I asked with a shuddering breath.

  "My boss wants me to attend that big charity benefit he's sponsoring in Toowoomba on December 23rd," Adam said. "The stationers have environmental concerns and I have a knack for putting them at ease."

  He stared down at his beer bottle.

  "Eva said … she said that if take her with me, Jackson Oil Company will make a large donation to help truck water to the drought victim's herds. And then, we would all go together to Brisbane for Christmas Eve."

  I refused to look at him. I didn't want him to see the tears which fought to escape the confines of my eyelashes. Eva had the looks, the money, and the connections to get whatever she wanted. And what did I have to offer Adam? All I had was myself.

  I fought to keep my voice from breaking. "Would you come back here when you're done?"

  Adam fidgeted with his bottle.

  "That depends."

  "On what?"

  "On whether you'd agree to come with us."

  "To Brisbane?"

  "Yes. I don't want Pippa to backslide."

  The tear fell. I was Pippa's governess, and of course the governess was expected to travel wherever the employer's schedule dictated.

  "I'll do anything you want," my voice warbled. "But please don't ask me to come watch you reconcile with your wife."

  Adam leaped up and cut me off as I stood up to flee.

  "Don't … touch me." I held up my hand.

  "Rosie, I…"

  "Don't touch me!" I cried out, my voice sharp with tears. I stood, hand raised, my face averted so he would not see me cry.

  "You don't understand!" Adam face was filled with pleading. "Eva's father has me by the short hairs! He said if you come, he'll invite the headmaster of the Geelong Grammar School and promise them a large cash donation contingent upon hiring you."

  Geelong Grammar School was the most exclusive boarding school in Australia. It was a dream job, one of the schools I'd mailed my resume to and hadn't been surprised when they'd mailed me back a form rejection letter. It was also hundreds of miles away from Adam, from Pippa, from Nutyoon or even Brisbane. It was, quite literally, a payoff to get me the hell out of their lives.

  "No!" I held up my hand. "I refuse to be beholden to Eva Jackson's father."

  "But this would be good for you! It would give you someplace to go."

  Oh! The bitch had met with her very best friend and no doubt learned about my tear-filled breakdown in Roberta Dingle's office. Adam knew it too, for all of my worldly belongings sat stored out in his barn. The Black Widow sensed a smaller spider had begun to spin a web around her reluctant mate, so now Eva had switched tactics to that of a funnel spider; to invite the smaller insect in, and then entangle the both of us into her web. Oh, she'd get me a teaching position alright! One which would make Adam feel like he was doing the right thing by sacrificing his happiness to help me land my dream-job. Only that new job was contingent upon the lowly school-teacher staying away from the oil heiress' husband!

  "You hired me to tutor Pippa here," I sobbed. "If you don't want me here, then you have to let me go."

  I pushed past him and slammed my bedroom door.

  Chapter 28

  Harvey's hooves pounded so fast it felt as though we were flying, but the girl in the white pony always remained elusive, showing me all the places the fences needed to be mended, but though she tried to speak to me, somehow the wind always managed to steal her words. She beckoned for me to hurry. Hurry! Hurry! I was almost out of time...

  The sound of a car door closing jolted me awake.

  I opened my eyes to see the first hint of grey on the horizon.

  Adam.

  I bolted out of bed and ran down the hallway barefoot, pulling on my scuzzy pink bathrobe as I went, but the headlights reflected off the inner wall of the living room before I got to the front door. I stood in the doorway as the red tail lights of the silver Mercedes SLX disappeared down the still-dark driveway. I faded back behind the threshold and shut the screen door, my heart aching at the realization he'd be gone until Monday. For three days he'd acted chivalrous, polite and distant, and now the wild brumby stallion had fled the paddock. I'd made the ultimate horse whisperer error. I had let the stallion know I cared whether or not he chose to take the halter.

  I almost wept as my nose recognized the scent of slightly-burned French toast and rubbery scrambled eggs. I followed the smell to the kitchen. Three plates had been set out neatly on the grey Formica table, one still containing crumbs from Adam's breakfast, the other two waiting for us to help ourselves to the treats contained beneath the two heavy ceramic bowls.

  "Oh, Adam," I sighed as I sat down at his place at the table. "I didn't even get to say goodbye."

  I closed my eyes and imagined I could still feel his warmth radiating out from his seat. I was in no mood to eat, so I went back to my bedroom and stared out across the widening plain where the river had dropped so low it left behind a series of stagnant pools. The clock said four-thirty.

  The first blush of greyish-pink kissed the sky, full of obnoxious hope and youthful promise. A flicker of light caught my attention. Was it the mysterious lights? Or was it just the first light of dawn reflecting off the river? I crawled back into bed and, despite my conviction that I would not fall asleep, soon I was back on Harvey, galloping across the fields. The girl on the white pony led me back to the ranch-style house. We both dismounted.

  "Hello?" I said. "Are you really Adam's mother?"

  She handed me the reins to her white pony. Despite her age, the eyes which stared out of that young face were old and filled with worry.

  "He doesn't want me," I said. "He is going back to Eva."

  The girl in the white pony shook her head. 'Fight for him. Please. Fight to save my son.'

  She stepped towards the house and disappeared, leaving me holding the white pony's reins. I looked for Harvey, but he had disappeared as well. I touched white pony's soft, grey coat, rubbed her muzzle, and touched a curious scar which marred her forehead. Beneath her brown eyes, it looked as though the white pony was crying. I gave the pony a hug, and then I wept.

  "Show me," I sobbed. "Show me how to win his heart."

  A warm, wet tongue licked m
y face. I brushed it away, but a furry thump, and then a giggle, jolted me out of my dream.

  "Thunderlane!"

  I sat bolt upright and pushed the dog out of my face. Bright sunlight streamed in the window. The clock now said eight o'clock.

  Pippa laughed. "I told him to wake you up."

  I wiped the dog spittle off my cheek.

  "You're not supposed to be up here on the bed," I scolded the dog. But then I reinforced his naughty behavior by giving him a hug. His black fuzzy tail thumped all over my ugly granny-square comfy afghan, shedding black and tan hairs. It was a good thing I'd taken the quilt off the bed. I gestured for Pippa to join us.

  "Did Daddy leave you any breakfast today?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.

  "French toast," Pippa said. "And scrambled eggs. With birch sap syrup and powdered sugar."

  "Did you save any for me?"

  "I haven't eaten it yet." Pippa's face fell. "I don't like eating alone."

  I followed them out into the kitchen and microwaved the now-cool breakfast while Pippa chattered about her playdate with Emily today. Did Pippa really understand that, once they moved back with her mother, everything she'd built here would simply fade away? No. How could she. She was only ten years old.

  The memory of the white pony's reins in my hands came back so palpably I could almost feel the leather straps. I gathered up Adam's crumb-laden dish along with the other dishes and set them into the hot, soapy water to soak.

  "Let's finish up those cupcakes for the library."

  Pippa scrambled over to the counter and began to measure out all the ingredients into separate bowls.

  "So how many tablespoons of baking powder am I supposed to put in here?" Pippa asked.

  "Do the math," I said.

  Pippa frowned.

  "Just multiply the recipe by two and one-half," I said. "There's scrap paper and a pencil on the counter."

  "Wouldn't it just be easier if I tripled it?" Pippa asked.

  "We only have enough sugar to make a two-and-a-half batch," I lied.

  "Then can't I just double it?"

  "You wouldn't want any of your new friends at the library to do without today, would you?"

  Ignoring her grumbles, I coaxed Pippa through the steps to first multiply, and then divide the recipe to account for deficits in not only sugar, but also baking powder and eggs. We licked the bowl together as the muffins baked, relishing the scent of gooseberries. Starting next week, if she came back, I needed to come up with a way to teach her geometry, but for now, Pippa had finally mastered fractions.

  "How come it's always such a pain?" Pippa complained.

  "Was that an eye-roll?"

  "No."

  "That was definitely an eye-roll!" I squealed with mock-indignation. "You did eye-roll me!" I turned to the dog and threw my hands up into the air. "Ohmigod! I've got a tween-ager on my hands!"

  Thunderlane whined and wagged his tail.

  "It wasn't an eye-roll," Pippa protested. "I was just wondering why everything always has to be so hard."

  "That's just life," I gave her an innocent grin. "You've got to make do with the ingredients you have on hand."

  If Adam's wife didn't snatch her away before I finished, by the end of the summer Pippa might have a shot of being assigned to a classroom with same-age friends.

  About the friends…

  "Go get your sandals on. It's time to go meet Emily at the library."

  After a morning spent helping her shelve books, followed up by a visit to Julie at her hair salon, I stopped at the post office to check my mailbox. My stomach clenched as I read the rejection letters. That was it. That was the last of them. Those were the replies to every single resume I had mailed out.

  "Is something wrong, Rosie?" Pippa asked.

  I silently threw them into the trash.

  "No." My voice grew hoarse with tears. "It looks like I'll be teaching at Saint Josephs."

  Only -you- won't be there for me to teach…

  Chapter 29

  On Friday morning, Pippa wore the exact same outfit her mother had dropped her off in, meticulously washed and ironed so the Black Widow would find no excuse to masticate her daughter's fragile self-esteem. Pippa stood, bolt straight by the front picture window until the blackened limousine appeared in a cloud of reddish midsummer dust and glided to a stop in front of our front door.

  I cursed her father for leaving this nasty task to me, but then I reminded myself this entire arrangement had never been Adam's choice. He'd rearranged his summer after Eva's public tantrum, and then when the wind shifted, he'd rearranged his schedule a second time. Now, the court investigator had told him Eva's rights meant more than his, so he was ripping up the roots he'd so carefully begun to set down in his old hometown to transplant them back into the poisoned soil of Brisbane.

  What was he supposed to do? Kidnap Pippa and secret her away to an island in the middle of the Pacific? Sic' his pet dragon on Eva? Smite her with his sword? Challenge her father to a light-sabre duel? No. As much as it hurt to acknowledge some governess Adam had only known two months meant less to him than his daughter, the truth was, Adam needed to protect his little girl.

  Pippa leaned back into me as Frederick came around to open up the passenger side door. Eva rose from the seat like a tall, slender Afghan hound, her fake-blonde hair glistening in the sun while she hid her eyes behind her black, reflective sunglasses. No wonder Adam preferred Eva Jackson to me. The woman was positively stunning.

  "Mrs. Bristow," I gave her a polite nod.

  "Miss Xalbadora." Eva's red lips curved up into a polite smile, but we both knew we hated each other's guts.

  "Bye, Rosie," Pippa threw her arms around my waist. "I'll see you Sunday night."

  "Bye, nipper." I hugged her longer than was necessary. "You know I'll be here."

  She buried her face into my shoulder.

  "Don't worry, Rosie," she whispered. "The fairy queen said everything will be okay."

  I gave her a weak smile. Pippa and her imaginary friends…

  "Let's go," Eva said.

  There was no half-hearted attempt to entice me to come to Brisbane along with Pippa, no promise she'd hand me my dream job in Geelong to make me go away. That carrot was for Adam alone, in the same way that Eva never called to talk to Pippa except as an excuse to speak to Adam.

  I waited until the car door closed around Pippa like a dark, hungry sarcophagus and pulled away, its tail lights slanting like eyes as the dust obscured it. It was time to inventory my worldly goods. Five days until Christmas, and then I would no longer have a place to live. Oh, Adam would let me stay here alone until the end of the summer if I asked, but a girl has to have her pride.

  A pitiful whine along with the scratch of nails upon wood reminded me I'd locked Thunderlane in Pippa's bedroom. I let him out and he ran to the door, whining until I opened the screen. I watched him circle the last place Pippa had stood to pick up her scent, and then he disappeared in the same direction the limousine had gone. I knew he'd come back after he traced the tire tracks to the road.

  I went into my room to inventory my things. The school shirts and slacks would go back into my suitcase in case I had a job interview. I arranged them neatly to one side of the closet. The black dress? Hmmm… Sometimes you might end up someplace you needed to dress up. The black kitten heels, loafers and sandals? Yes. I needed those. Along with my daggy shorts and shirts because I might have to take a fast food job. What about my riding boots? The boots I had packed in the hopes this station would be alive?

  I took out my black Dubliner riding boots and pulled them on, admiring the way the laces made my ankles look slim. No. My dreams had already been dead upon arrival. I should pack them in the barn along with all my other dreams that had died the day my mother murdered Harvey.

  I carried them outside to the big, white monitor barn, along with the textbooks I'd unpacked, and tucked them back into their boxes. Thunderlane came running back as I poked arou
nd the sweltering barn, him all muddy and wet from a refreshing dip in the river, me with my tank top plastered to my chest with sweat. In a petty fit of rebellion, I threw open all the windows and pulled the vertical chains that operated every single vent until the stagnant air got sucked out of the roof. There. I'd had enough of places that were dead!

  "C'mon, boy," I told Thunderlane. "Let's go down for a swim."

  The sun had already begun to set, so I grabbed a flashlight and headed down to the river. The central channel still flowed with sluggish, clay-colored water, but the riverbed on either side of it was sandy beach, jutting rocks, and hundreds of stagnant pools filled with trapped fish. All the townies were worried about the drought, and more than one person had headed me off at the IGA to ask if Adam would let them fill their water tanks if their wells ran dry.

  Everybody seemed to think there was a spot on Adam's property where the aquifer kept the water fresh, but it wasn't in our favorite swim hole, nor had I seen any sign of it when I'd hiked with Adam downstream. Wherever it was, old man Bristow had refused to tell anyone where it was, so I doubted it would be marked by an obvious road. It was too dark to go on a lengthy hike, but first thing tomorrow, I would search for the well to keep myself from obsessing about my impending eviction.

  I went back into the house and fell asleep without supper.

  *

  A tall, dark shadow passed in front of the window. I opened my eyes and stared out into the inky black night. I pulled on my slippers and stepped outside to search for Harvey, but it was a different steed which waited for me in the courtyard. I stared up at the grim man who rode the painted stallion.

  "Hello," I said. "Adam isn't here."

  The man stared down at me with his unreadable expression, the same broad shoulders, chiseled features and blue-green eyes as Adam, but there was no mistaking the father for the son. The painted stallion gnawed on his bit, trying to evict it from his mouth so he could have his head, but every now and again the dark rider gave the reins a subtle tug, just enough to remind the stallion he wouldn't put up with any guff. The stallion pawed the ground. He stood almost 18 hands, with a thick, cream chest sprinkled with brown spots underneath his handsome swaths of chestnut coat. The dark rider touched the brim of his drover's hat and signaled his horse to move.