Summer Beach Reads. Natalie Anderson
personal failing.
Did she not see the irony?
Shirley had more shields around herself than any man could possibly negotiate. She’d be single and stoic until her last breath, despite her great faith in the random lightning-bolt strike of love.
Who was she to judge his choices?
He reached into his room and grabbed his coat, then headed for the wind storm outside. It was too early to sleep, even if he believed he could. But there was a lot of unexplored ship out there yet.
And a lot of disquiet to burn off.
He wandered the entire circumference of the freighter, staring out through the occasional slot in the bulky siding into the vast nothing of the ocean and up into the vast everything of space. So far from the visual pollution of land, and despite the floodlights at the front of the ship and the glow of the full moon, the stars seemed to blanket the dark sky. Together they were more than ample to see by.
But one circumference was complete and he wasn’t yet ready to return to the solitude of his cabin, which was insane because the past two years had been all about solitude. He turned into the heart of the sea-containers massed in the middle of the vessel.
He heard Twuwu’s contented rumination—a kind of chew and snort combo—before he turned the corner into her clearing. A bit of time in the company of a female with no expectations, no opinions and no judgements to cast. That was what he needed.
‘Hayden?’
Hell. Awful timing on his part.
‘Out for a walk?’ Caryn asked. The caution in her voice was immediately obvious and his mind went straight to Shirley’s defence of the woman. He sighed.
‘Caryn, I think I owe you an apology …’
They talked for quite some time as Caryn finished her checks on Twuwu and settled her for the night. She accepted his fumbled explanation and his assurances of regret for his hasty departure earlier in the evening.
‘Is it Shirley?’ she asked, wiping her hands on her jeans.
His denial was instant. Too fast. Like his pulse at the mere suggestion of something more going on with him and Shirley. ‘It’s such a short trip, Caryn …’
She called him on that deflection. ‘You don’t really strike me as a man who would have a problem with something short-term.’
‘I’m not.’ At least he wasn’t. That thought got him frowning.
‘I thought we had a spark.’
And a spark might once have been enough. More than enough. The truth—and the outrage of what it signified—burned. ‘It’s me.’
She stared at him long and hard. But what could she say, really? Other than the obvious. ‘Fair enough. Your loss.’
Maybe so. And given how tightly wound he’d been after storming from Shirley’s room, definitely so. ‘Come on, I’ll walk you back.’
‘Oh, God, chivalry? You really aren’t interested.’ She fell in beside him.
It felt good to laugh. And it felt strangely pleasing to have treated this woman with respect. This woman who loved her family and her homeland and was happy to talk to a stranger for hours about them.
‘Can I ask you something, Caryn?’
‘Shoot.’
‘Is your wildlife park anywhere near Queenstown?’
‘About four hundred kilometres away.’
Oh. It was worth a shot.
She took pity on him. ‘But we go right through Queenstown on the way.’
He lifted his head. ‘Will you need any help with Twuwu on the journey?’
She laughed. ‘No. There’ll be a whole transport team meeting us at Invercargill. Why? You need a lift?’
‘It’s a long story, but yeah.’
‘Let’s see what happens. There’re always multiple vehicles.’
He held the door of the accommodation deck for her and dropped his voice. ‘Thanks. We’ll even ride in with Twuwu if we need to.’
‘Are you kidding? No one gets to do that.’ She stopped a few doors down from Shirley’s room. ‘This is me.’
He shoved his hands into his pockets, carefully away from her. He wasn’t used to negotiating his way out of a woman’s room. ‘I appreciate your understanding, Caryn,’ he whispered. ‘Considering.’
She laughed in the silence and unlocked her door. ‘I think I understand a lot better than you do.’
‘See you tomorrow.’
‘Yep. Bright and early.’ She stepped into her room.
‘’Night.’
Her door clicked shut. Hayden leaned on the corridor wall and looked diagonally down the hall at Shirley’s door. Would she have given him points for that? For extricating himself with care and leaving Caryn’s pride intact?
He gave himself a few. And that was rare.
He pushed off the wall and his expensive shoes took him silently down the hall. He opened his door gingerly to avoid waking Shirley. It closed just as quietly.
The entire time he’d paced the ship’s deck he’d been working himself up to the decision that he would sleep with Caryn just to show Shirley he didn’t care what she thought. To do something with the useless tension resonating through his body and maybe to prove himself as heartless and soulless as she clearly believed. If he was going to burn, it might as well be justified.
Yet here he was, heading to bed solo.
So, all those points he gave himself for treating Caryn with compassion …?
He ripped them off again for being so damn weak.
‘SO, LOOKS like we’re giving you a lift when we head north.’ Caryn looked up as Shirley slid into a seat across from her.
‘Sorry?’
After a night with no sleep in that tiny dark cabin, she’d been desperate to get out of the confined space that had started to feel like a coffin. Hence her early breakfast. She thought she might have seen some of the crew but she hadn’t expected either Caryn or Hayden. Not at this hour. Not after what she’d heard in the hall.
A deep, familiar masculine murmur. A throaty, carefully muted feminine chuckle.
The stone in her stomach settled in further. What had she expected? It wasn’t reasonable to tell a man he was worthless and then be shocked when he went out to find someone to prove otherwise.
‘When we hit Invercargill,’ Caryn clarified. ‘Our convoy will go right past Queenstown.’
A ride. She tried to muster up some enthusiasm. ‘Oh, great. Thank you.’
‘You don’t look like backpackers,’ she hinted.
So Hayden hadn’t told her why they were heading for New Zealand. Shirley didn’t know whether to be grateful for his discretion or appalled at his form. He still hadn’t made actual conversation with her?
What a prince.
A confused jumble of anger and hurt curdled her hastily downed cup of tea. ‘We’re kind of on a … challenge.’
‘You against him?’
Most of the time. ‘No. Together.’
‘Shame.