Kiwi Kiss

By Cherie Le Clare

Nineteen-year-old Ruby Miller knows pain and loss. After catching her fiancé in the arms of another, the last thing she wants is to fall in love again, but handsome American sailor Mac Mackenzie is hard to resist.

Mac, too, preparing to leave the South Pacific haven to battle against the Japanese, strives to avoid any emotional entanglement, but since he met Ruby, he's rethinking his decision.

They both know what they want, but when tragedy draws them closer, how long can they hold out against what they both need?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cherie Le Clare
• Release date: Mar 4, 2023
• ISBN: 9780987669216

Cherie Le Clare

Cherie Le Clare lives with her husband on the northern tip of the South Island of New Zealand, in the scenic city of Nelson. Their two sons, along with their wives and families, live in the USA.

Book preview

Dedication

Idedicate this book to my parents – in memory of THE DOLLY VARDEN.

Many thanks for the encouragement and wisdom given by my critique partners LaVerne Clark and Sheree Davidson. And to my editor, for her guidance and faith in my work.

Chapter One

New Zealand . Spring, 1944

Ruby Miller exploded through the door of New Plymouth city’s Registry Office, and flung her bridal bouquet into the gutter. A gust of wind tugged at her hat, and she lifted a trembling hand to hold it down. Lowering her head against the bright afternoon sun’s glare, she broke into a run.

Oomph! With a shudder of shock she glanced up at the stranger she’d bumped against.  Sorry. Please excuse me.

The man’s blue eyes reflected the color of his US Navy uniform. His puzzled glance dropped to her knee-length ivory satin dress, and then his lips curved in a smile. Stepping aside with a smart click of his heels, he drawled, Your bridegroom is one very lucky guy.

A sob caught in her throat, and her stomach twisted with nausea. Her eyes fluttered shut against a swell of dizziness, and she swayed on her heeled shoes.

Are you okay, ma’am? His hand gripped her arm, making her gasp. Her eyes flew open. Heart pounding, she backed away, and broke into a clumsy trot, her sweaty stocking-clad feet sliding inside her shoes.

Passers-by dodged out of her way. She felt their startled glares boring into her back, but she kept on, not even caring when one of her shoes slipped off. Abandoning it, she hopped on one foot as she dragged off the other shoe, then ran until she caught sight of her father’s café on the west end of Devon Street. She paused at the corner to drag in a few breaths, and then shrank into an alleyway. Slumping against the wall, she hunched her shoulders and covered her wet cheeks with both hands.

You might need this.

Suppressing a groan, she straightened to see the sailor holding her discarded shoe. Blowing a curl of hair from her eyes, she attempted a watery smile of thanks. But, to her horror, her mouth dragged down, and she burst into uncontrollable sobs.

Where do you live? he asked, after a few seconds. I’ll take you home.

She shook her head. She had taken the afternoon off work. There were just more chores waiting for her at home.

I can’t leave you here like this. He dipped into his pocket and offered her his large white handkerchief. I’m John Mackenzie. But I answer to Mac.

Her mist-filled glance flicked over his blond hair and square jaw, then back to his steady, calm gaze. She heaved in a ragged breath. I’m Ruby, she mumbled. Ruby Miller.

Let’s find a tearoom, Ruby. I’m new to this town. Where’s your favorite?

Ruby pressed the hanky against her eyes, and then blew her nose. A few seconds ticked by before she could order her shocked, scrambled brain into producing a coherent thought. I don’t know... Her voice trailed off and she glanced up at him with a sudden wail of anguish. My wedding day’s ruined. Her lip trembled. Why would Peter do that to me?

A helpless look passed across his face. She knew it was a question he couldn’t answer, but as his saltwater blue eyes held hers, a flicker of warmth thawed the heavy block of ice in her stomach.

She slipped her shoes on. He offered his arm, and she tucked her hand under his elbow as they emerged onto the street. Ruby, certain she looked a mess, her makeup ruined, her eyes red and swollen, tweaked the net veil of her hat until it covered more of her face.

What about there? Mac indicated to his left. The Dolly Varden.

Ruby squashed a surge of panic. No. Not that one. She indicated in the opposite direction. Let’s go this way.

Brings back too many memories, huh?

She stayed silent, merely quickening her steps towards a seedy, greasy spoon where she’d be most unlikely to bump into anyone she knew. Her stomach turned at this heart-knocking, mortifying thought. She tightened her grip on his  elbow and he glanced at her, alarmed.

Are you okay?

Ruby attempted a reassuring smile, though without the rock-hard strength of his arm muscles her legs would collapse beneath her. Trembling, she sank onto a wooden chair as he approached the counter to order a pot of tea.

Make it strong, pal, he said.

Seizing the moment to check her face in a compact mirror, her hazel eyes blurred in despair at her pale, tear-streaked complexion. She didn’t want anyone else to see her like this—humiliated and shamed. Hurriedly, she dabbed powder across her reddened, shiny nose. Her head throbbed, the dull ache forming a crease between her carefully penciled eyebrows.

Inwardly recoiling from the stink of fried eggs, sausage, and congealed dripping fat, she glanced around the grimy room to discover she and the sailor were the only customers.

Her heart sank. If all had gone according to plan, she’d be celebrating her wedding with a meal in the hotel Peter booked for the night. Maybe he was there now, with...the thought almost made her retch, with Chris Harding.

Twisting the pearl engagement ring over and over on her finger, she wondered what she had done to cause Peter and Chris to be so utterly cruel.

Mac flipped a chair round and sat on it back to front, resting his forearms across the wooden frame. Raising his voice above the whizzing clatter of a machine on the counter, he said, Care to talk about it?

Her face burned. Maybe I’m naïve. She bit her lip. But it just never occurred to me...that he and Chris... She forced herself to look at him. I’m struggling to make sense of it...I didn’t know... She pressed the balled hanky to her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut, mortified at how close she’d come to humiliating herself by saying the words, they had feelings for each other.

It’s not your fault.

Peter and I planned a family, she murmured, swallowing a surge of nausea. He said he wanted two of each. Her eyes misted.

The tea tray arrived, clunked onto the table by a spotty-faced lad, his embarrassed glance making Ruby want to crawl under the table.

He shuffled off and returned with a tumbler of frothy milkshake and two straws.

Like a taste? Mac offered, holding out a straw.

Ruby shook her head and poured the tea.

You’re turning down a shake thickened with your rich kiwi ice-cream? He drew a long slurp. It’s the best. He grinned. I sure will miss it when I get back home.

Although her queasy stomach rejected the very idea of food, Ruby couldn’t prevent a tiny smile of amusement at his boyish enthusiasm.

Mac dropped a lingering gaze on her lips. She lifted her cup to take a sip, and his eyes jumped to hers. Her pulse leaped at the message there. She could swear he wanted to kiss her. And for one unsettling moment she imagined how comforting his lips on hers would be.

He shook his head. I don’t understand the guy two-timing a good-looking gal like you, he murmured.

She blushed. Rejected and desired all in the space of—she checked her watch—one hour. Mac was an attractive man but everyone knew the reputation of the US forces—generous, easygoing and up for a fun, no-strings-attached good time. Many a girl had been caught by the strangers’ charms and had their hearts broken when the men returned to their sweethearts back home.

How long are you here for? Ruby drained her cup.

My ship is stationed in Wellington until we receive further orders. I was due a weekend’s leave so thought I’d take the opportunity to look up my mother’s cousin. She lives in Shortland Street. Do you know it?

Yes. It’s not far from here. Near the park. Did you travel up by train?

He pushed the empty milkshake tumbler aside and stood up. Uh huh. I arrived yesterday afternoon. He fished into his pocket, drew out some coins, and tossed them onto the table. The young lad scurried over to scoop up the rare, unaccustomed tip, effusively gushing his thanks.

Ruby got to her feet. She offered Mac his handkerchief back but he told her to keep it.   My pleasure, ma’am.

His smile warmed her like the sun breaking through fog. Suddenly reluctant to step back into the cool, lonely shadows, she said, I’ll launder this and give it back to you. I work at The Dolly Varden teashop, down the hill there. Call in tomorrow for morning tea, if you like.

Mac glanced down the street then turned to her, a small frown between his eyes. Her heart sank. Perhaps he didn’t want to have anything more to do with someone else’s cast-off bride.

I’ll understand if you don’t want—

I have an invitation—he cut in—to a dance at the Criterion Hotel tonight. His gaze focused on her legs for a moment, and she had the feeling he was looking for the right words. I’d hate that pretty dress you’re wearing to go to waste, Ruby. He raised his eyes. Would you—?

The unfinished question hung in the air as they stood aside to allow a woman, holding the hand of a small child, into the doorway.

A dance? She took a ragged breath. What if she bumped into one of her friends? They’d be bound to ask awkward questions about why she wasn’t there with Peter. She’d readily agreed with him not to tell anyone about the marriage until afterwards. She assumed it was because Dad had refused to give his blessing, but now...the hollow in her stomach widened...maybe Peter hadn’t wanted to give anyone the chance to object in the part of the ceremony that says, If anyone knows of any   impediment...

Her stomach churned—did others know about him and Chris? She couldn’t face that possibility, couldn’t smile and act as if nothing was wrong when all she wanted to do was hide away.

But dancing is probably the last thing you want to do right now, Mac added, with a rueful grimace.

I wouldn’t be very good company, she admitted.

As they walked in step together, he said, "Think of today as a new