A Southern Strait (Book 3, Across the Strait)

By Anya Forest

She’s abandoned ship. His secrets haunt him daily. Can two wayward souls keep their love afloat when the winds of change begin to blow?

Rebecca Ryan’s marriage is on the rocks. She’s at an impasse, torn between the stress of fertility treatments and a husband who refuses to love a childless wife. Rebecca hopes a trip to a remote southern coast will clear her mind, but when a storm disrupts her search for serenity, she’s left stranded and alone.

Fate has never been too kind to Heath Morgan. Haunted by a tragic past and left to roam the Earth in the shadow of his past mistakes, he finally stumbles upon a chance at redemption. For once, he was in the right place at the right time to save a beautiful stranger. Heath’s chance encounter with Rebecca could be a new opportunity for romance – if he’s willing to let his past sink to the bottom of the ocean.

Rebecca and Heath feel a pull stronger than any current. But they’ll need to confront painful losses if they have any chance at charting a new course toward love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anya Forest
• Release date: Jun 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9780473405656

Anya Forest

I'm a New Zealand writer who enjoys creating true-to-life Kiwi characters and communities in my contemporary New Zealand stories, capturing the unique way of life of small-town rural Mainlanders. I've lived around the South Island (and Stewart Island!) with family originally hailing from the West Coast. Each of my books weaves in the southern places that have a special place in my heart, and the outdoor way of life that is such a special part of New Zealand life. My latest book is a time-travel adventure set in Fiordland, New Zealand, featuring characters from the past and New Zealand wildlife, including the Haast's eagle! I've also written several adult fiction books. My "Across the Strait" series is set around a family where all is not as it seems, moving through Central Otago and Stewart Island. My "Maniototo Skies" series is set around the plains of the Maniototo, dealing with the far reaching consequences of a moment of anger, and the nature of forgiveness - or not! My stories have a strong flavour of New Zealand - including the wildlife, the scenery, the music and art. When I’m not writing I’m enjoying the outdoors with my retriever dog Crockett. And no, he’s not spoilt – I’m just very well trained!

Book preview

Prologue

They came out of the sun. The glare ricocheted off the water and the glistening ice, almost hiding the black inflatable boat that dipped in the swell like a seal. Almost. Heath looked again, lowering his binoculars as reality overtook him. The man next to him smirked, gesturing at the binoculars and then at the ship’s sophisticated computer system. I’ve already looked at the fucking radar.

Heath turned away, his binoculars heavy around his neck. He strode out onto the pitching deck, staring up at the mast and at the huge albatross that had been with them, day in, day out, no matter what the weather – be it mist or cloud or fog. The giant wings barely seemed to move as it coasted high above, following the ship’s course.

Following…except without compliance inspectors. Heath tried not to think about the naval patrol vessel looming behind the distant icebergs, a vessel that had only betrayed its presence when it had deployed an inflatable boat, bringing to an end the ominous game of cat and mouse Heath had not realised he was playing. He brought the binoculars up to his eyes again, the glare of the ice and the surge of the sea making the scene a violent blur. There. The binoculars focused, and Heath almost wished they hadn’t. He could see it now, the steel grey that merged with the sea and the sky, stark against the brilliant white of the icebergs. Just a glimpse, enough to see the vessel’s bow moving out from behind the iceberg, her reinforced hull pushing through the floating ice floe with ease.

Heath gazed down at the men on the deck, stoic in their yellow oilskins. He tried to switch off from the scene, the rust-streaked hull, the slippery deck, the crew’s inadequate clothing, which he would have frozen solid in. More guilt… It’s a wonder I’m still standing. At least I brought my own gear to wear. Yet the Antarctic cold bit through his multiple layers of clothing like it was nothing, filling his bones with a cold he knew he would never escape.

A harsh call made him look up; the albatross was descending in a magnificent streamlined dive, finally tempted, heeding the instinct that made it the world’s greatest ocean-going seabird. Until man came along, that is. Or man that doesn’t use seabird exclusion methods. He wondered at his detachment, knowing only it was a kind of shock. The albatross plummeted past him, hitting the ocean with a thwack that reverberated through him. He could not look away; the albatross surfaced and settled on the water, nothing in its instinct warning it of the danger beneath, the almost invisible longline that would snare and eventually drown it. The heartbreaking disregard for bird exclusion measures that the legitimate fishing industry used appalled him, underscoring the indiscriminate plunder of the Antarctic toothfish and so much more besides. The albatross called again, plaintive this time, its giant wings beating at the swell in a futile attempt to escape. Heath knew what it meant.

I can’t save you, he mouthed. I can’t save you. Tears became icy trails of despair on his face. The ship pitched again, obscuring the albatross, the huge Antarctic toothfish sliding on the deck as the crew slid with it. When the ship leveled out, Heath could no longer see the albatross, and he bowed his head. He swallowed down bile, the mental image of the thrashing albatross juxtaposed with the approaching inflatable boat still ploughing through the swell.

The binoculars told him the naval vessel, now a black shadow against the fire of the polar sun, had set a course to intercept them. Heath turned, adjusting the binoculars to check on the boat sitting off their stern. The boat with the black flag. He cursed the coincidence. Still there. Like it was going anywhere. He knew he needed to return to the bridge, every step taking him closer to a nightmare. If I wasn’t already in one.

The chief engineer was there, a man who had never once met his eyes. We go now.

We are not going anywhere, Heath said bluntly. How the hell can we?

Life rafts, the chief engineer said. Mayday.

Heath stared. The ship’s fine. He looked at the master for confirmation.

Instead the master shook his head. It’s going down, he said. Get to the life rafts. He gestured to the vessel with the black flag. They will take us.

But the catch…everything…

The master shrugged.

Heath looked out at the approaching inflatable boat, twisting his cold wedding ring without even realising it. I can’t save you…

Chapter 1

O f course, being a mother is my greatest achievement.

Of course, Rebecca murmured. That’s understandable.

Penny nodded. How many do you have?

Rebecca pinned a smile on her face. I don’t have children. She turned away and moved her computer mouse to bring up the screen. Anyway, I’d better get back to it.

Yeah, okay. Penny hovered. School holidays next week. No idea how I’ll cope. Work’ll be an escape.

I thought you said motherhood was your greatest achievement. Rebecca couldn’t resist looking up at her workmate.

Oh, you know what I mean. Penny flounced off.

No. No I don’t, Rebecca whispered. The computer screen blurred and she blinked, impatient as she tried to focus. Damn. Penny’s words repeated across her mind as she updated her website profile, the prestigious commissions she had to her name suddenly meaning nothing. Rebecca exhaled and added details of the landmark commercial building she’d just completed work on, attaching the photographs the client had sent her, and pressed send before she stopped to think. At least I’ll look professional.

She shut down her computer and grabbed her bag. She knew she could stay around, trade conversation about the photographs and the new website, but could not summon the energy to do so. No prizes for guessing why. She looked at her colleagues without really seeing them, muttering what passed for a goodbye, and then headed for the door, trying to shake off the sense of claustrophobia. The wind buffeted her as she stepped onto the street.

Becky.

Hearing Gareth shorten her name was unbearably painful. Hi, she said softly. I wasn’t expecting you to be here.

Well, I am.

Great. She smiled up at him. I’ve just finished work…obviously. She cleared her throat. Did you want to go out? She pointed to the nearby row of restaurants.

If you want to.

She tried to laugh. Sounds like you want a night in.

Actually, yeah.

Oh. Well, fine. She hitched her handbag up. Sounds great. She slid her arm around his waist. He seemed tense, but he put his arm around her and she leaned against him. Thanks for coming to meet me.

No worries.

Rebecca waited for him to say something else, but he did not. She spoke into the silence. I’ve always loved the cottages around here.

You always say that. He glanced at the closest historic workingman’s cottage as they walked up the cobbled hill.

She laughed, uncertain. I suppose I do. She waited again, something inside her dying as he did not say the words he always did. Always…except for the last few months. She looked up at him, but he was focused on the path that led up to Tinakori Road. I thought you—

Yeah, I know. I like them too.

She took a deep breath. There’s one listed at the end…they hardly ever come onto the market. They were talking about it today at work. I looked on the Internet. She wondered why the idea did not make her as happy as she’d always thought it would.

Right.

She tried again. We could go and look at it…we’ve always talked about living along here.

His arm tightened around her. We’re nearly home.

Rebecca swallowed the lump in her throat as they reached Tinakori Road, the narrow street a blur as he guided her further up the hill and into their home. I take it you don’t want to look at the cottage, then. She left her bag on the chair and moved into the kitchen.

No, not really. He hesitated. I don’t think it’s right for us. When we’re planning a family. This place is better.

It always comes back to that.

Becky…it’s not a matter of ‘coming back to that,’ as you put it. The reality is that we’re about to start another round…that’s where our focus needs to be. Not on moving house.

But—

You’ve got the nursery all ready to go here…moving just means more stress. And more money.

She faced him. But what if another round doesn’t work…it’s hard to know whether it’s worth it.

Worth it? He frowned. Of course it’s worth it. I know we have to pay again, but we both want children. And we’ve got the money. All I meant before about the cottage was that—

I don’t know if I want to go through all that again.

You’ve changed your mind? You don’t want children—

Oh, Gareth. Of course I want children. So much. But I want to be realistic, too. I’ve had five cycles already… I’m just saying I don’t know if I can go through it all again…and all the disappointment.

We can afford it. So many people can’t, and now you’re saying you don’t even want to try?

I know how…lucky…we are, Gareth. I just want to take some time…it’s not about the money. It’s like every time it fails, I grieve and then get caught up in all the hope about next time. Please…

Becky…what are you saying?

I want to wait. She straightened. And talk…think some more.

We only moved to Wellington because the waiting list was shorter here, he pointed out. Now you’re saying you want to wait? He shook his head. That doesn’t make sense.

I’m telling you the way I feel. It has to be a joint thing—

Like marriage.

She nodded, a falling sensation in her stomach. I know we’re married, Gareth. That means being able to talk about things like this together.

I don’t understand you, he said after a short silence. This whole thing is your fault and now you’re deciding to throw in the towel.

My fault... Tears welled in her eyes. That’s what you think?

You know I didn’t mean it like that.

She did not respond, pushing past him to grab her handbag.

Becky, please wait.

She turned at the door. I’m going out for a while. To think. I’ll text you later.

You know Blake’s arriving tomorrow. You’ll be back, won’t you?

She wavered. Yes…but I’ll ring him. To tell him he can stay somewhere else. We can still have him round tomorrow night.

What’s he going to think? If you tell him that?

She shrugged. I don’t care what he thinks. That’s what I’m telling him. The last thing I need is him staying here. It’s not really a fun environment.

He’ll guess anyway, Becky. Whether we have him here for a meal or to stay.

Well, there’s not a lot I can do about that. Unless we magically sort this out.

Do you want to? His voice was quiet.

She looked away for a moment. I don’t know if we can, she whispered, trying to swallow the ache in her throat.

Do you want to? he repeated, a harder edge in his voice.

You’re making it sound like an ultimatum. Instead of something we can discuss and compromise on.

His laugh was short. Well, we either go forward with the IVF or we don’t. It’s not something where a compromise would work.

No…when you look at it like that. But what I meant was I wanted to talk some more about it—

Until I change my mind and give in, I suppose.

Rebecca took a shuddering breath. Maybe it’s best if I do go out for a while. If we’re going to talk to each other like this.

I’ll save you the trouble. Before she could react, Gareth strode past her. He wrenched open the door and walked through it without a backwards glance.

Chapter 2

Heath shouldered his pack, relieved the volunteer rotation was over. He knew he should be grateful for the opportunity to be on Codfish Island, be involved in the kakapo programme, but the experience had only intensified the deep yearning within him. Of course he’d taken his duties seriously, felt a real sense of achievement, but he’d nonetheless found himself staring at the ocean at every opportunity. He’d met the physical demands of the work easily. The emotional demands were another matter, as Lisa’s enthusiasm and endless questions only underscored what was missing from his own life.

Lisa was next to him – of course – and they were already at the edge of the beach. The small white aeroplane came into view as it lined up for landing. The bold three-letter call sign was visible, painted in white across the blue stripe of the fuselage. The sight made Heath smile, reminding him of past hunting and sightseeing trips. Back when things were different. The memories the aeroplane evoked were so powerful he spoke without thinking.

It’s JEM. Fantastic.

Lisa laughed. What did you expect? A Boeing? JEM’s got those tyres—

And room for five people. If you include the pilot. Right. Heath drew out the last word in an effort to disguise his emotion with a joke. Back to civilization.

Yeah. But this has been a real experience. Too bad I only got a glimpse of a kakapo. She shrugged. But at least I know I’ve contributed.

There is that, he agreed. He looked away from her, focusing on the ocean stretching out into the horizon. I can see the sea, but the sea can’t see me. The nursery rhyme his father used to recite to him flew back into his head, and he laughed to himself. Sometimes I wonder about that, Dad.

The dense native forest of Codfish Island was at his back, an environment most would find awe inspiring. But the ocean beckoned again, the limitless blue expanse inviting.

Heath?

Oh yeah. Sorry, Lisa. What were you saying?

I said, what about you? Where are you going after this?

You don’t give up, do you?

No, she said with a slight smile. But if it’s a state secret, then fine. I was just asking.

Why do I get the feeling you ‘just ask’ quite a lot? He turned his back on the ocean, fighting the instinctive chill that ran up his back.

Lisa’s face shadowed. It’s been said before.

I’m sure it has, he said equably, thinking back to her persistent questions over the last two weeks. I’ll be spending more time on Stewart Island. Then heading back to Canterbury.

Why Canterbury? She hitched her pack up as they walked towards the small aeroplane with the rest of the group.

Work. The ocean was back in his vision, and he looked at it like a returning lover.

Why do I get the feeling you give one-word answers quite a lot?

He grinned down at her. It’s been said before.

Bloody southern men, Lisa retorted.

Heath threw back his head, laughing. We’re not that bad. And who knows, I might let you take the front seat. So you’ve got room to breathe.

That’s up to the pilot, Lisa said with mock sweetness. Since he is charge of the aircraft.

If you’re in the front seat, you’ll see Jesse a few seconds before the rest of us.

Lisa’s smile lit up her face. We’re flying back to Oban. So I’ll need to be in the front seat of the shuttle for that.

You’ve got it all planned, haven’t you?

Yes. Her nod was certain.

Is that a one-word answer?

How many words do you need? she asked.

My thoughts exactly.

She gave him a look, and he laughed.

You wait there and plan your big reunion. I’ll give Dane a hand with the gear.

If you say so. Her smile pierced his detachment and took his breath away. Oh, to be young and in love. He turned to greet Dane, sick at heart.

Jesse! Lisa opened the van door just as the driver pulled into the depot. She jumped out of the front seat and raced over to him.

He pulled her into an embrace, laughing. Long time, no see.

Thanks for coming to meet me.

I wouldn’t be anywhere else. And I’m keen to hear all about it.

She grinned. Don’t worry, you will. Keeping her arm around him, she swung around. I just need to get my pack…and say goodbye to everyone.

I’ll get it…take your time. The hotel’s not going anywhere.

What—

I’ve booked a room, he said. Just for a few days. Since we’re here…

Her eyes lit up at his Southland accent. You’re rolling your r’s.

I know. His grin was wide.

A room sounds good. I definitely need a shower as soon as possible.

So do I, he said in an undertone.

Great minds think alike. Before he could react she’d left his side, immediately immersed in a round of goodbyes, reminisces, and laughter. He watched her for several moments, a smile still on his face as he strode over to the luggage trailer behind the van.

Heath! Jesse put down Lisa’s pack to shake hands. I didn’t realise you were on Codfish Island.

Heath shrugged. Yeah. Managed to find myself a spot.

How? Or more to the point, why?

Spreading my wings. Heath met Jesse’s incredulous look with an unconcerned stare. He tugged at his pack, wanting to leave.

By studying a flightless parrot?

I’m thinking of changing direction, Heath said. So yeah, I’m looking at options. Including flightless parrots.

Lisa walked out from behind the trailer. Oh, there you are, Heath.

Here I am, Heath said. He summoned a smile and glanced back at Jesse. Thank Christ you’re actually here, mate, is all I can say. Lisa’s talked of nothing else.

Jesse laughed. Unless you count kakapo and kaka. And the bats.

Well, now that you mention it…

I know my place, Jesse said.

Lisa giggled. You’re the one who encouraged me to do this! Shaking her head, she shouldered her pack. Her mouth quirked at Jesse’s amazed look. We should get going. I really need a decent shower.

So you’ve said. Something made Jesse hesitate as Lisa turned to walk towards the hotel. We’ll be at the hotel for a few days. Are you staying around?

Oh yeah, sure. Heath spoke without thinking.

Well, let’s meet for a drink.

Sounds good. Heath shifted his gaze, cursing silently as he realised he’d accepted the invitation.

Tonight? Jesse prompted.

Let’s play it by ear…if I’m in the pub, I’ll keep an eye out for you.

No worries. Jesse smiled and turned away, focusing on catching up with Lisa.

Heath watched as Jesse reached her, said something to make her laugh, and then took her pack to carry himself. When they set off again, Jesse had his arm around her. Heath shook his head and turned back to the trailer.

Rebecca had left Freshwater Jetty on her solitary tramp, and soon reached the tributary creek that wended through the scrubby forest. The gurgling puzzled her at first, before she realised. It was the sound of the water rushing over the creek bed, through eddies and small falls on its journey to Freshwater Creek. Not something I’d ever hear in the city, that’s for sure. Spindly trees lined the uneven track, leaving only a narrow strip of sky visible. She knocked a fallen branch, and brushed at her jacket, conscious of the spider’s web caught across her sleeve. She wiped it away, and turned around as two children from the water taxi ran up to her, calling to each other.

I spy with my little eye!

Something beginning with…M!

Mud! One of them shrieked the answer, laughing loudly. Then the child looked up at Rebecca. We want to see a kiwi. But we can’t.

Rebecca smiled, conscious of the adults catching up with them. Kiwis like peace and quiet, she said gently. If you sing and call out, they’ll hide.

I want to see a kiwi, the child repeated stubbornly.

Well, there’s still a while until you reach the hut. Maybe, if you’re quiet and walk slowly… Both children ran off ahead before she could finish the sentence. The adults murmured a friendly acknowledgement and walked on, leaving her by herself. She could still hear the children calling out, even as they disappeared around a curve in the track and were obscured by tussock and scrub.

She shook her head and walked on, her sense of isolation increasing. The relentless zigzag of the track was unsettling, the height of the scrub now preventing any real perspective on where she was or a view of the surroundings. She hitched her pack up on her shoulders; the straps were already starting to rub. Slowing down, she checked her watch and frowned. The landscape was not what she’d expected; the dense scrub and tussock had created a maze she couldn’t escape. Like my life. Or my marriage.

Her steps faltered as she recalled that terrible conversation with Gareth, the icy silence that had followed on his return home, the halting excuses to Blake and then, finally, Gareth’s casual shrug when she’d told him she needed some time away. So we can postpone the inevitable. She blew out a breath. It’s like IVF consumed everything… I was so focused on having a baby I forgot I was married too. She shook herself. Of course she’d known she was married, that she loved Gareth, but…

Rebecca tried to pinpoint when it had gone wrong, frowning with concentration as events from her marriage ran through her mind like a movie. She glanced up as she sensed movement and stopped abruptly. A kiwi walked onto the track, its distinctive jerky gait taking it along the edge of the undergrowth just ahead of her.

The bird fossicked in the leaf matter for grubs, its long, thin beak at odds with its small, rotund body. For the first time Rebecca noticed the almost shaggy appearance of the kiwi, something she’d never appreciated before. Because I’ve never seen one up close like this, in the daylight. And its feathers have evolved because kiwis don’t fly… She smiled, admiring the subtle shading of its plumage. Then the kiwi veered back into the scrub, a rustling sound the only reminder of its presence. Rebecca moved forward as the rustling faded, trying without success to spot the rare bird in the undergrowth.

The brief appearance of the kiwi made her focus, and she continued along the path with renewed determination, trying to think of the next few days, rather than the failed dreams waiting for her in Wellington. Except I’m walking to Mason Bay…the exact place Blake asked me to paint for Isla’s nursery. She cursed under her breath. So why did I come? And why does everything have to be about babies?

Rebecca stepped off the boardwalk and back onto solid ground. It took her a moment to regain her footing after walking for so long on the wooden structure built above the swamp. I’m walking like a kiwi, she thought, amused. She straightened her legs as she walked, the muddy track sucking her boots in with each step, so different from the unyielding boardwalk. The eerie isolation was unnerving, and she turned to look back at the swamp. The opaque murk gave no hint of the depth stretching away into the distance, surrounding the spines of long-dead trees.

She shivered, focusing on the track ahead once more. I’m going to Mason Bay, not Mordor. The tramp was taking longer than she’d thought, and she was glad when the scrub became tussock, giving her a broad view over the plain. In the distance a large sand dune loomed over the landscape, and she watched it draw closer as the track narrowed up and over an incline. Her gaze swung around as she sensed movement, her instinct telling her it was too big for a kiwi.

Seen any deer? Cold blue eyes fixed on her.

Seen any kiwis? she countered. He’s so tall… The hunting jacket only underscored his rugged appearance, as his dark hair was ruffled by the light breeze.

He looked at the sky and then back at her.

They can’t fly, she said, mutinous. His eyes are so bright, I’ve never seen anything like them. She forced herself to break his gaze.

I think I know that. He shook his head. You’re as bad as those bloody kids. He unobtrusively adjusted the rifle slung over his shoulder, the glint of his wedding band catching her eye.

You don’t need to hide your rifle, she said quickly. I mean, my brother hunts. She blushed, wondering if she’d imagined his amusement. Probably not. She pulled at her new long-sleeved top. I haven’t seen any deer.

I’ve just walked up the track, but now I’ve come back and seen their sign. He gestured at the mud, and Rebecca thought she could see hoofprints. The bloody thing was probably walking behind me.

Bugger.

His eyes narrowed. Are you winding me up?

Of course not. Her smile was wide. Anyway, I’d better keep going. Otherwise I’ll stand here staring at you. She wrenched her gaze away and stepped around him, her arm brushing his torso. With a murmured apology, she glanced up at him, unprepared for his expression.

I’ve always cursed these narrow tracks, he murmured. Not today. The coldness left his face, transforming it.

Rebecca inclined her head, the warm glow of his compliment settling over her. I thought seeing a kiwi would be the highlight, she replied softly. She hesitated. But not today.

High praise indeed. His grin took her by surprise. But you don’t have to choose between us. He indicated something behind her. Because I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with K. She swiveled to look where he’d pointed. When she finally looked back to where he’d been standing, he’d disappeared as soundlessly as he’d arrived.

Rebecca tried to put the encounter out of her mind as she walked on, averting her gaze from the wooden sign pointing the way to the hunter’s hut. I wanted to come here, be somewhere different, to think. Instead I’m daydreaming about a married stranger. When I need to be thinking about my future with Gareth.

Coldness filled her, but she shook it off. The way he’d blamed her for their needing to use IVF stung, even though she acknowledged he was being honest. She brushed away her tears, her steps purposeful as she moved forward. Instead of the forbidding isolation that had almost overwhelmed her, she started to notice the varied colours of the landscape, the incongruity of the grass a remnant of the old sheep station that had once existed on this land. She smiled, wondering if her father had ever been here. Farming here would be almost impossible.

Rebecca followed the old fence line, catching glimpses of weathered fence posts and rusty wire that had almost surrendered to the elements. She caught her breath as she saw the rusting tractor and old woolshed and exclaimed to herself as she ran her hand over the cold red grille of the tractor. She took out her camera and spent several minutes framing shots and checking the composition. A large raindrop splashed on her camera screen as she scrolled through her images, and she glanced up at the grey sky. Frowning, she climbed into the old woolshed for shelter, inhaling the scent of long-gone wool and lanolin that still clung to the structure. Then she settled down to wait out the rain shower, soon immersed in her camera once more.

Filled with relief, Rebecca moved towards the painted wooden building but then drew back, realising it was the historic farmhouse that was now the ranger’s station. She called out a cheerful greeting, nonetheless, to the couple on the porch.

Get caught in that rain, did you?

Rebecca nodded. Luckily, it hit just when I was at the woolshed, she said with a laugh. Good timing. Instead of walking on, she fell into conversation with them, introducing herself in turn and thanking them when they invited her inside. Crossing the threshold was a time warp; she shook her head at the old coal range and vintage oven.

I bet you don’t know what this is. Rebecca looked around with a smile as Vicky indicated the small room beside the lounge.

Rebecca stepped closer, puzzled as she saw the large rotund object. But—that’s a washing machine! she guessed. An old one.

State of the art, Vicky said. Compared to the coal range, anyway.

Rebecca stood in the humble lounge, taking in the small desk and worn couch. She ran her hand over the wood of the desk. The children must have studied here.

Actually, yes, Andrew said, glancing at his wife. Our grandchildren arrived today…they’ve walked on through to the hut with their parents. So a few final minutes of peace and quiet.

You might have seen them, Vicky said. On the water taxi.

Rebecca smiled. Yes, I think I did.

I have a feeling, by the end of it, I’ll be wishing for relaxing solitude again. Andrew’s smile belied his gruff words.

Rebecca twisted her wedding rings, almost without realising she was doing so. You’ll have a great time, she said sincerely, talking over the ache in her throat. Being here together as a family. She turned to the door. Anyway, I guess I should make tracks to the hut. You said about fifteen minutes from here?

Yes, Vicky confirmed. But before you go, let me show you the bunk rooms. They’ve preserved some of the different wallpaper from over the years. At one point they even used newspaper, would you believe?

Sounds great. Rebecca’s interest was piqued despite the hollowness in her chest. Her eyes widened as she saw the clear Perspex square fixed over the peeled-back layers of wallpaper. Even lugging all that out here would have been a mission.

Definitely.

Vicky and Andrew hovered as she stepped off the porch. Did you see any hunters on the way in? Andrew called.

Rebecca turned and smiled. Only the one, she said, as casually as she could manage. He reckoned a deer was walking behind him.

Andrew laughed. Heath, was it?

Rebecca paused. We didn’t stop for introductions, she said, keeping her voice level.

Tall, dark…the usual, Andrew said. There can be only one.

Rebecca glanced at the deer skull and antlers on the fence. I was probably focused on the kiwi, she said. Rather than taking down an exact description.

Did you see— Vicky began, but Andrew kept talking.

Good to see him out and about though…after everything he’s been through. He went to ground for a fair while.

Rebecca made a sound she prayed was noncommittal. You’d probably want to speak to my brother, she said. Blake Ryan. If it’s the same Heath I’m thinking of…I think they know each other. But I don’t—

Oh, well. Blake. So you’re his sister, are you? Chalk and cheese, I must say.

You and everyone else. We are, she agreed pleasantly. In looks, anyway. And height. I’m definitely his little sister…he’s over a foot taller than me. The practiced words flowed from her mouth, the smile, the pretty laugh that came out by rote at the inevitable comparison she had grown up with.

Could even be taller than Heath.

Yes, he is, Rebecca said before she could stop herself. She tried not to see the knowing look on Vicky’s face. I think. Like I said, I was looking at the kiwi.

Of course you were, Vicky said with a smile.

Rebecca brushed back a stray lock of blonde hair with her left hand, ensuring the diamond of her engagement ring was visible. Yes, I was, she agreed with a smile. Thanks for the tour. I’ll head off.

The weather’s going to be a bit rough later in the week, Andrew said.

Oh, I know, Rebecca said. But I’m prepared, don’t worry. And I borrowed a locator beacon.

Andrew nodded. Well, if you’re around for a few days, we’ll see you again.

Definitely, Rebecca said. She gave them a wave and walked off down the front path.

Rebecca reached the Mason Bay hut sooner than she’d thought and quickly found a bunk before settling in and making herself lunch. The unseasonal chill in the air, which she’d barely noticed while tramping, returned as she relaxed, and she went to her bunk to get a jersey. She lingered around the hut for a while but then decided to explore the area towards the coast. Shrugging on her jacket, she crossed the grass and headed down the track towards Duck Creek, balancing across the narrow plank of wood and then wending her way through the dunes.

As she reached the top of one sandy incline, the breeze became stronger, batting at her and whipping her hair around her face. A whirl of sand speckled her face and lips, and she rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand, tasting salt mingled with grit. This wouldn’t happen on the Gold Coast. The thought made her smile, and she walked forward, preparing to skirt around another dune before cresting the top of the sandy peak she